


To My Dear Fire

by shockandlock



Series: From the Hopeless Romantics [1]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Actor!Marco, Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Love Confessions, M/M, Pen Pals, Sharing a Bed, flower shop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-01-23 05:13:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 36,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18542980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shockandlock/pseuds/shockandlock
Summary: Living in the city is a new thing for Ace. After being raised near a cozy coastal mountain town through his childhood, it's definitely a change of pace, but it doesn't help when he loses his new job after an unfortunate encounter with actor Marco Newgate. He just wants to live-- and meet his long time pen pal, Phoenix.Marco knows that being an actor is hard, so he takes the little things when he can: writing his pen pal (and honestly one of his best friends) Fire Fist, flirting with the cute new waiter at his favorite café-- not that he has a chance after a disaster on social media. But maybe fate really does give him a second chance when Ace shows up at Four Emperor Studios...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, y'all! Welcome to my story for this year's One Piece Big Bang! This is an idea I've been thinking about since the fall and, haha, some people from discord have heard a full-on rant about it, but my idea has changed in bits since I first thought of it. I kinda had to end up rushing writing some parts since I procrastinated during breaks instead of writing for this, but there's definitely stuff I'm proud of in this fic and I hope you guys enjoy it!
> 
> Thank you so much to my event partner majoraop for creating the art (which may or may not be added in to the story itself later) and for also beta-reading the story!

**Dear Fire Fist,**

**Even though I end up traveling a lot, I haven’t ever moved cities before. I can only**

**imagine how stressful it must be for you. The most I’ve moved is just into my own apartment, but my family is still a short drive away, well, depending on the traffic. I can’t imagine being so far from them for so long, especially since I work with some of them. It’s good that you’ll be with your brothers. You’ll at least have some sense of familiarity.**

**Grandine is such a big city, so it might seem overwhelming at first. But if you’re ever in desperate need for a guide, you know where to find me. No pressure though. I don’t want to force you to meet up with me.**

**I know you wanted me to wait until you finished moving before we started sending letters again, but I couldn’t help myself. Happy anniversary. 7 years is a long time. Here’s to many more.**

**Sincerely,**

**Phoenix** __

**P.S. I took another picture for you. We went here for work, but it looks a lot nicer at night when you can see the whole city light up. It gets crowded then, but if you can, you should go at night.**

“Well, Ace. Looks like you’re good to go!”

Ace turned his attention back to his new manager. To be honest, his mind hadn’t been much on his new job even after the final interview to confirm that he actually got the job. He had been thinking about Phoenix’s letter all morning. “Thanks! So I can start on Monday then?”

“Yeah. Can’t have you start on a busy weekend and fuck up or something.”

_ Wow. The confidence levels are through the roof.  _ He knew he had to grin and bear it though, so he just smiled as he took his new uniform. It came with a bow tie. He’d ask Sabo how to tie it later.

Ace was finally free of the café that had been much too warm inside. Thankfully, it was a perfect day: sunny, but with a cooling breeze. He considered going home, but the day was still young. Someone was about to pass by him to go into the café, but he stopped them.

“Excuse me, but do you know the best way to get to Starsea Park?”

The guy didn’t even lower his sunglasses, but he answered Ace anyways. “It’s the last stop on the L Train. There’s a station a block from here on Red Street.”

“Thanks!” Ace waved as he started walking towards the station (he barely heard the “No problem, yoi” from the stranger as he walked away).

The L train dropped him off in the middle of the city, right next to the archway entrance of Starsea Park. The smell of food immediately hit him as he entered, and his mouth watered when he spotted the countless food stalls lining the entrance.

“God I love this place.”

He balanced a hot dog, a pretzel, and a pork bun in his arms as he walked through the park, glancing at the signs to find the location that Phoenix had photographed for him.  _ Starsea Park: Ocean viewing patio  _ he had written in beautiful cursive on the back of the polaroid.  

“Huh. Well, I don’t know what I expected.” It wasn’t the ocean (because of course they were in the middle of the city). The “Ocean” was just a shiny lake that reflected its surroundings like a mirror. He luckily found an empty seat to eat his snack, grumbling when people shoved past his chair to take pictures. Well, Phoenix did warn him that it would be crowded. 

Yeah, it was definitely a tourist city, but now it was his. He had made it.

* * *

**Ace honestly though he was going to live in the mountains his entire life, only coming down to help in his mother’s flower shop or buy groceries.**

**That changed when Rouge decided that they needed to go to school.**

**Sabo and Luffy were certainly eager to start school. Sabo loved learning and Luffy was eager to make new friends. Ace had only agreed to it since he knew it was a burden on Rouge to homeschool them, especially when she wanted to focus on her flower shop.**

**The commute to the nearby city of Goa was a definite pain in the ass, but even so, Ace and Sabo started as freshman while Luffy entered middle school.**

**Things went south when Ace found out that he and Sabo were in different classes, which was to say that things went south immediately.**

**“You didn’t want to come take the placement tests with me,” Sabo sighed. “That’s why they put you in standard classes.”**

**Standard was pretty easy. Rouge had worked hard to teach them the basics, and Ace was far from stupid.**

**It was the other kids who were the problem.**

**A prissy kid with his shirt all tucked in staggered up to him on the first day. “You’re one of those hick wolf boys who lives in the mountains right? Bark bark!” He laughed, but it didn’t last long. Ace decked him in the face.**

**That first day principal’s office visit set a precedent for his high school career.**

**Well, it would have if he hadn’t met Phoenix.**

**Makino was the school guidance counselor. She was also a family friend, so it wasn’t strange for her to visit them over the summer. He had just come home from spear-fishing in the river when she waved him over to join the conversation she was having with Rouge.**

**“There’s this pen pal program that I think would be good for you, Ace,” she had said. “You’ll have a friend to talk to when you need one, and I’m hoping this can help you get along with others.”**

**Ace snorted, crossing his arms as he slouched down in his chair. “That’s dumb. Why do I have to write some stupid letter?”**

**But Rouge took his hand, squeezed it, and said, “Won’t you at least try it, Ace? I want what’s best for you and I think this would really help.”**

**And so Ace sat at his desk that night, writing up a storm. Oh and a storm it was.**

**_“Sincerely Fuck Off, Fire Fist._ ** **”**

**“Who the fuck signs a letter like that?” Sabo asked. Ace turned and lobbed an eraser at his head, but Sabo dodged as he rolled his eyes. “I mean, Fire Fist? Really?”**

**“It will scare him off, Sabo! You’ll see.”**

**Makino was in charge of finding him a partner and sending the first letter. Thankfully, she didn’t read what he wrote before she sent it off. Not that it mattered. The other kid wasn’t going to write back.**

**“Ace, you have a letter!” Rouge called. It had been a week, and she had picked up the mail on her way back from the flower shop. Ace hadn’t bothered to actually check the mailbox himself since it was at the base of the mountain.**

**Rouge handed him the blue envelope since he was too stunned to take it from her himself. “The guy actually wrote back?”**

**She raised an eyebrow at him. “Why wouldn’t he?”**

**“Haha. Nothing, Ma.” And with that, Ace rushed up to his room before she could ask more questions. He tossed the envelope on to his desk and laid down on his bed. He couldn’t believe that he had actually gotten a response. Getting a letter like that should have scared anyone off. They’d probably sent an equally nasty response back, so Ace didn’t plan on opening it any time soon. A nap sounded nicer instead.**

**Ace only woke up when he felt someone sit on top of him. “Wow. I didn’t think you’d actually get a letter back,** **_Fire Fist_ ** **.”**

**“Shuddap, Sabo,” Ace groaned, still groggy after the rude awakening from his peaceful nap.**

**“It’s probably a restraining order or something. Though, that’s probably what you wanted, right?”**

**“I’m not gonna read it, so it doesn’t matter.”**

**Sabo didn’t listen to him, which wasn’t anything new:**

**“** **_Dear Fire Fist (what an unfortunate name you were born with),_ **

**_Nice try, kid. It’s cute how you’re trying to scare me with that attitude of yours, but I have siblings, so you don’t scare me at all. Well, when I volunteered to become a penpal to some troubled brat, I didn’t realize that I’d get the fiercest one of the bunch. You’re interesting, kid._ **

**_I wonder why I even bothered to send this letter. It’s not like you’re going to write back anyways considering that attitude of yours. I’ve probably left you speechless for even writing to you. Well, I won’t expect a response then._ **

**_Sincerely,_ **

**_Phoenix”_ **

**If Ace wasn’t awake before, he was now. “Ugh! Who do they think they are?” He shoved Sabo off his bed as he leapt up towards his desk. “Speechless? I’ll show them.”**

**“Uh, Ace?” Sabo said as Ace started to scribble his next letter furiously. But Ace was in the zone, ready to show Phoenix who was wrong. “Nevermind.”**

**Once again, Phoenix’s response came a week later. “He took his damn time,” Ace grumbled as he tore open the envelope. But as soon as he read the first line, his face went red.**

**Sabo read over his shoulder then shrugged. “You know, I was trying to tell you that he was baiting you to write another letter.”**

**_Glad to see you’re up to this then. I’m looking forward to talking with you._ **

* * *

Ace wasn’t a stranger to walking places (they didn’t have a car for a long time back home and they had to walk most places on the mountain anyways), but he was looking forward to just collapsing on the couch. It was his bed- thankfully a pull out- since they only had one bedroom, and Sabo needed the space more than he did.  

“I’m home.”

“Ah, welcome back, Fire Fist!”

Ace wasn’t expecting someone to pull him into a hug as soon as he walked through the door, but Shanks wasn’t someone who was very predictable.

“As you can see, Shanks decided to visit,” Sabo said, looking up from his laptop. 

“Of course! Couldn’t wait to welcome my little nephews!”

“We’re not little anymore, you know,” Ace said, laughing when Shanks messed with his hair. 

“But you’ll still be those three brats to me.”

Ace still remembered the first time that Shanks visited. As an aggressive 7-year-old, he didn’t appreciate having a bunch of strangers in his home. He tried to attack Shanks from behind to try and scare him off, but Shanks caught him instead with a laugh.  _ “Take me seriously!”  _ Ace had yelled, and of course Rouge’s scoldings to leave them alone didn’t work. 

He only let up once Shanks had saved Luffy’s life, something Ace would always be grateful for. From that point on, Shanks had pretty much been their uncle. Admittedly, Shanks was pretty amazing. He didn’t let losing an arm define him, and now he was a big name director at Four Emperor Studios. 

But to them, he would always just be Shanks.

“Get off your laptop, Sabo! I’m taking you two to dinner. My treat!”

Rouge always told them to be humble and pay for their own food, but Shanks insisted (and it’s not as if they could have afforded the meal where Shanks took them anyways). 

“Shame that Anchor can’t be here,” Shanks said, sipping his beer. He didn’t care about being subtle when it came to his favorite of the three of them, which was obviously Luffy. “How’s he been? I haven’t visited lately.” 

“He’ll come to visit eventually.” Luffy wanted to come with them right away, but there hadn’t been enough room in the car (and besides, they didn’t trust Luffy to take the train back alone). “But he’s still a crybaby. Same old Lu.”

“And how are my other two favorite nephews settling in?” He always thought it was amusing that they started calling him their uncle, even if he did say that he was too young for that. But once Luffy decided on it, it just stuck. 

Sabo swallowed a bite of his steak. “We’re your only other two nephews, Shanks.” 

He laughed. “Yeah, yeah! It’s more fun to ask that way. And hey, your mom wanted me to check in when I can. So if you two ever need anything, you know who to call. Speaking of that, I have a job for you, Ace!”

Ace, who had been engrossed in seconds, froze. He loved his uncle, sure, but when he got ideas, they weren’t always good (at least for some parties involved).

At least it wasn’t hard to refuse. “I already have a job, you know.”

“Eh, really?”

“Yeah. At that two-story café near Red Street.”

He wasn’t expecting Shanks to shoot him a smug grin at his answer. “Ah? You know they purposely hire eye candy boys there, right?”

Ace went red. Sabo snickered.

“The job offer still stands. I need to protect my nephew’s innocence!”

“Oi! Don’t say that!”

His words certainly didn’t make Ace feel any better when his first customers were a group of giggling middle-aged women, but he had to grin and bear it to pay the bills, right?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features artwork by majoraop (tumblr)/ majorasmasks (deviantart)!

**Dear Phoenix,**

**Well, I’m here! And trust me, I’m glad you decided to send a letter anyways. It totally slipped my mind that we’ve been writing each other for that long. Send me a better present next time, jerk! (Just kidding :P)**

**Sab and I just got settled in. The apartment isn’t very big, but it’ll do. We’re used to sharing a space. I have to use a PO box now by the way, though the walk to the post office isn’t much different from walking down the mountain to the mailbox.**

**I got that job! I’ll tell you more about it once I’ve actually started, but I think it’s a step. It’s really only work to help pay the bills and groceries, but it’s something. And I didn’t get lost either, so don’t worry about me, Mr. Tour Guide. I’d love to meet you someday, but let me get settled in first. Maybe we can work something out eventually.**

**Happy anniversary, Phoenix. Can’t wait for your next letter!**

**Sincerely,**

**Fire Fist**

**P.S. Since I’m not living at home anymore, I can’t send you as many pressed flowers. I have one for now, but maybe I’ll have to find a flower shop. I’ll think of something.**

Marco smiled when he pulled out the daisy that had been dried and pressed with care. Fire Fist had sent him many pressed flowers in his letters over the years, and he never tired of these little gifts.

“Ah. Did your boyfriend send you more flowers?” Izo asked. He smirked as he pushed the clothes rack into the dressing room.

“We’re just friends, Izo.” It wasn’t the first time that he had to say that, and he doubted that it would be the last. “When will you guys stop bothering me about that?”

“Well, if you don’t want me to assume, then stop reading your letters at work. I’m not the only one who thinks you have a secret romance.”

Marco put the letter into his bag, but rolled his eyes anyways. He knew that he didn’t get much privacy working in this industry, so it’s not like he cared much anyways. “So how’s it looking?”

Izo unzipped the bag labeled “Marco” to reveal a dark red suit inside. “We’ll see. Now put it on.”

As always, it fit well, but he wasn’t surprised that Izo knew his measurements perfectly. “Seems good,” Marco said, smoothing the lapels of the jacket as he looked in the mirror.

“Of course you think that. You don’t have the eye that I do.” Before Marco could say anything else, Izo ripped the jacket off of him. “I don’t like the white shirt. I’ll do black instead. A three-piece.”

“Isn’t that a little much?”

“Damned if my costumes are in this movie and they’re not absolutely perfect, Marco.”

Marco stopped talking. Izo knew what he was doing, and the designs would look stunning on screen in the end anyways.

“Why did it have to be red?” Izo muttered. “Blue looks so much better on you anyways.”

Marco shrugged, sitting back down in his chair. “I didn’t pick the motif color. Shanks did.”

“Of course he did.”

“And of course Hancock was on board for it, but hey. Red is pretty fitting for a spy movie.”

“If not cliché.”

“True."

* * *

 Marco was glad to have a break for the day. He was looking forward to heading to his favorite café and he made sure to bring his script so he could continue reading through and making notes.

He knew it was rude to wear his sunglasses and hat into the building, but it was kind of necessary in this city. Besides, he didn’t need the paparazzi writing trashy gossip news about how Marco Newgate liked to go to Handsome’s, aka “pretty boy café” as the locals liked to call it. He only came here because the tea was good, okay? Better than at some chain-store coffee shop anyways. And the staff treated him as a regular too, which was a plus.

“Excuse me, sir, but would you mind removing your hat?”

Except this guy apparently, but Marco didn’t recognize him either. Last time he checked, which was last Friday, none of the waiters here had freckles (though it was a rather cute look, especially with his hair slicked back).

“He’s fine, Ace. Let him be,” Wyper said, walking up to his table. “He’s new here, Marc. He’s just trying to get away from, you know….”

Marco looked around and as always, the only other customers were women swooning over the staff.

“No problem. Nice to meet you, Ace.” He truly didn’t mind that much, still running off the high of reading Fire Fist’s letter. Marco held out a hand for Ace, who looked a bit stunned.

Finally, he took it. “Thanks. Nice to meet you, Marc.” He smiled. “Can I just say it’s nice to not be serving another girl? They always flirt with me.”

“And how do you know I won’t flirt with you?” It was hard to keep a straight face when Ace fumbled with his pen, dropping it at his words. “I’m kidding! But seriously, I’ve seen people come in here just for that, which is a shame.”

“Why’s that?” Ace asked.

Marco couldn’t help laughing once more when he later invited Ace to sit with him. “I ordered an extra. You should at least know what you’re selling, right?” Even when he didn’t come to Handsome’s, this kind of black tea was his favorite. Always served hot and brewed perfectly so it wasn’t bitter.

Marco watched as Ace pressed the tea cup against his lips only for his nose to scrunch up seconds later. “It’s… okay, I guess?”

“Not your thing?”

“Not really. I've had better” He set his cup back down on the saucer and looked back at Marco. “I have a friend that likes it, but I don’t drink it too much. I’m more of a coffee person. Thanks anyways. Hey…” Marco thought it was strange when his gaze lingered. “Your hat actually looks kind of familiar.”

Marco’s heart skipped a beat as he slid his hand to cover the title on the script he had been reading. Maybe it was a bad idea to keep wearing the same sorry excuse for a disguise everywhere (not that anyone had caught him yet).

But Ace beamed instead. “Oh, you’re the one who gave me directions to Starsea last week!”

“I did?” Now that he mentioned it, he did look familiar. It had been a short exchange, but only one person had asked him for directions last week, and it had been in front of this very shop. “Ah, I remember that vaguely. You certainly look different with your hair slicked back.”

Ace reached up and touched his hair with a slight frown. “Er- is it bad?”

“No! You just don’t seem like the type.”

“Ace! You’re needed at table 8.”

“Sorry!” Ace got up, smiling sheepishly. “Enjoy your tea, Marc. And hey, you have extra now!”

While Marco wasn’t quite the food blogger type, the aesthetic of a nice cup of tea would have made for a lovely picture. He hadn’t brought his polaroid camera with him since it was too bulky to carry around with him on a casual tea run. He’d have to take another picture to send Fire Fist later, and he already had the perfect idea.

It had already been a great day, but it was even better when he got his receipt back that had a little flower drawn on it next to a _Thanks for coming!_

* * *

**Flowers always reminded him of Fire Fist, which was ironic really. He never imagined that the stubborn brat that he had written all those years ago would start to send him pressed flowers of all things.**

**Marco knew how much the pen pal program meant to his family. Pops had originally founded the program to help lonely orphan kids make friends, but it eventually expanded. He encouraged all of his children to join, and of course Marco was going to participate.**

**“Hey, Marco? Your partner has a really weird name,” Thatch said, holding up the letter. It had been his turn to get the mail that day.**

**Marco took it from him. “What do you mean?” But it didn’t take much to figure out what Thatch meant: the return address was from a “Fire Fist”.**

**_Dear whoever the fuck gets this,_ **

**_Look, I was pretty much forced into this, so I don’t really care who you are. I don’t know why I have to write some dumb letter anyways. I’m not the kind of guy that writes letters. Do they think I’m some school girl or something? This whole thing is stupid and I think you’re stupid too._ **

**_Don’t try to fix me because I don’t need your fucking help. I don’t want your fucking help. Just make this easier for the both of us and don’t write back._ **

**_Sincerely fuck off,_ **

**_Fire Fist_ **

**It was certainly a thing to read at dinner, not that it ruined the mood much. It made Pops laugh. “Looks like yours will be fiesty, son!”**

**“Clearly.”**

**“What a name though!” Haruta chimed, leaning over to try and grab the letter.**

**“Get off,” Izo groaned, shoving Haruta back. “He’s obviously just using a pen name. People have done it before, and honestly, I don’t think we’ll learn his real name any time soon.”**

**“I can always contact the supervisor, son.”**

**“No, it’s fine,” Marco said. “He doesn’t want me to know who he is and I’ll respect that, but I don’t care what he says. He needs my help.”**

**No matter what the kid said, Marco could tell that he did need someone. He was lucky that he got Marco as a partner. If this letter had just gone to some random kid somewhere, then Fire Fist probably never would have gotten a letter back.**

**But Marco wasn’t just some random kid, and he didn’t give up.**

**“Uh, Marco? Are you sure you should send your letter like that?” Thatch asked. He was nosy and Marco knew he was going to end up reading it anyways, so he didn’t stop him. “I think you’re just going to get him even more angry.”**

**“Trust me. It’ll work.”**

**Thatch was stunned when Marco received a response in the mail, the first line reading:** **_I’m not a kid! I’m fifteen!_ **

**Though it had been a trick, Marco had gotten him to open up, and it was a start at least. “This is going to be an interesting partnership.”**

**\----**

It was hard not to reminisce back when they had recently passed seven years of writing letters to each other. Their time in the pen pal program had long since gone, but they had continued to write each other anyways.

Marco sat at his kitchen table, carefully applying wood glue to the back of the newly acquired daisy with a toothpick. He used his steady hand to turn it over onto the paper with his tweezers.  With a gentle push, the daisy was officially added to his collection. Of course, the glue still needed to dry, but it was in the journal at least.

It wasn’t exactly the old one he had been using, but that one had filled up. Marco had decided to buy a new one. Besides, it was fitting. Fire Fist had finally moved to Grandine like he had been planning to, Marco was working on a new movie, and who knew what else lay ahead?

It was a new chapter for them.


	3. Chapter 3

Work was certainly something, though he should have expected that when he applied to work at a café called Handsome’s.

It paid the bills at least and to be fair, it hadn’t exactly been his idea. A classmate of his had suggested it when Ace mentioned that he was planning to move to Grandine with his brother after graduation.

* * *

 

**“If you need a job, there’s a place that hires guys like you. Pays well.”**

**Those words didn’t sit quite well with Ace, and even if he was a Martial Arts major, it’s not like he would be able to justify throwing someone through a wall. “What is that supposed to mean?”**

**“Just look up their website.”**

**‘Guys like you’ apparently meant ‘good-looking’.**

**“You know he was flirting with you, right?” Sabo said. Ace thought he hadn’t been listening to him because of the book he had been engrossed in, but his suspicions were debunked when he snapped his novel shut and responded. “Not that you’d care very much when you’re busy writing love letters.”**

**Ace blushed, hands quickly covering the current letter he was writing. “They’re not love letters!”**

**He didn’t even need to look at Sabo to know that he rolled his eyes. To be fair, the evidence was stacked against him, but he was glad that Sabo decided not to list said evidence (at least this time).**

* * *

 

The picture that Phoenix had sent screamed romance: the reds and yellows of the sunset shining down on the pressed daisy Ace had sent.

Even though that’s how Ace felt about the picture, he knew it didn’t mean that. He had accepted the fact that there was nothing there a long time ago, but he wasn’t going to stop writing letters to a friend every time Phoenix talked about someone new in his life.

**Dear Fire Fist,**

**I met someone cute today. They had a new waiter at my favorite caf** é **, and he was pretty nice. We chatted a bit. Nothing major, but it’s nice to talk to someone new. I don’t really know if anything will come of this, but you never know. I’ll keep you updated if I see him the next time I go.**

**I hope you don’t end up feeling too cramped at your new place. At least there’s plenty to explore around the city. There’s plenty of other parks around besides Starsea, and of course there are other things to do, but unfortunately a lot of things cost money. I didn’t know if you were on a tight budget or not. Just tell me if you want to know more anyways.**

**Congratulations on getting the job! Does it have anything to do with your degree? I mean, even if it isn’t, the bills are still important too. Are you planning to look for something else in the future?**

**Sincerely,**

**Phoenix**

“People already posted pics of you on Twitter,” Sabo said. He was grinning mostly to himself, but it annoyed Ace anyways. “‘ **New waiter at Handome’s! He has freckles~ so cute!** ’” 

Ace scowled and chucked his sock at Sabo when he burst out laughing. “What’s so damn funny?” 

“You’ve only been working there for a couple of days, but the girls are already swooning over you.”

“I’d hardly call it swooning.” Oh, it was definitely swooning and flirting, and both of them knew that. But it wasn’t something that Ace cared about very much anyways. Even if there was a bisexual flag hanging behind their TV, he had his preferences.

“Well whatever it is, get used to it. Hey, maybe I can look into the consent policies about that.”

“For an article?” Ace elbowed Sabo, asking him to move over. He had been standing all day and he deserved the soft part of the couch, damn it. “Sounds boring. Besides, I think it’s allowed there.” He rolled his eyes. “Boss even encouraged me to pose, but that was weird.”

It was strange. People had never taken pictures of him before, but that was probably because one of the only other jobs he had was in his mother’s flower shop. As pretty as the arrangements were, it’s not like there were teens lining up to rave about the place on social media. 

“Still, it could be useful for others. You never know.”

Ace wasn’t gonna stop him. Even if the topic seemed boring to him, he saw the appeal, and he wasn’t about to stop Sabo from writing. It was kind of like trying to stop a train— once Sabo was fixated on something, he would write about it no matter what. 

“Can you put your clothes in the hamper next time?”

“I’ll move it after I nap. This is my room now. Get used to it, buddy.”

* * *

This wasn’t Ace’s first job as a waiter. He worked at a pizza place in college, but back then, they didn’t really give a shit about what he wore as long as he had the apron on. It was weird having such a formal uniform. At least they had a changing room so he didn’t get weird looks when taking the train to and from work.

The worst part was the shoes. Sure, they looked nice, but Ace didn’t particularly think that they were fit for standing in all day. Maybe there was something wrong with him considering that his coworkers had no problem. Personally, he preferred a comfortable sneaker, but those would definitely stand out against the rest of his uniform.  

The uncomfortable shoes definitely didn’t help now that it was a busy weekend. He was glad that he hadn’t just been tossed into it at least, but there was a definite difference between only having to handle a few tables.

He wasn’t surprised to see the café crowded with women again, but at least he had the pleasure of serving one very confused family who had stopped in for lunch thinking that this was a run of the mill restaurant. 

The highlight of any of his work days was Marc’s normalcy— though, it was strange to call it normalcy when Marc was technically the strangest of them all. It was probably his clothing.

“Is that supposed to be for some sports team?” Ace asked one time, pointing at the familiar-looking logo on his hat (though Ace couldn’t quite place it at the moment).

Even though Marc was wearing his usual sunglasses, Ace still noticed the way that he raised his eyebrows. “Oh— uh no actually. It’s where I work.”

“Really? You have merch where you work? Haha weird.”

“Says you, and yet this café sells souvenirs as well?” 

“It’s supposed to be for the ‘tourists’— at least that’s what the boss tells me to say.” They had given him one of those weird mugs after his first day as well, though he elected to slip it back in to stock. He didn’t need to drink some tea or coffee with some strange winking man staring at him from the bottom of the mug.

Maybe it was the fact that he was always reading. Sure, reading was pretty normal at a café, but he was always bringing these weird bundles of paper instead of books.

“Whatcha reading?”

Marc turned his papers facedown on the table. “Ah. Nothing much, just some work stuff.”

“But you should be taking a break, shouldn’t you?”

“Not much time for breaks right now, I’m afraid,” he said. “Working on a major— ah,  _ project _ , at the moment.”

“Ew.” Ace frowned, as he set down Marc’s tea for the day. 

“Why the disgust?” Marc asked. “Thank you for the tea, by the way.”

He shrugged. “Reminds me too much of college I guess.”

“Ah, so you’re a student then?” He leaned on his hand towards Ace, a slight smile gracing his lips. Even with his important papers in front of him, Marc was focused solely on him. It was enough to make him blush— only a little bit,

“Just finished actually.” 

“I assume you didn’t major in being a handsome waiter though.”

He laughed when Ace sputtered, fumbling with his tray. “I kid. Just a bit.”

Ace didn’t need to crack open one of the numerous gossip magazines that dominated convenience store shelves to know that Marc was flirting with him. At least Sabo wasn’t laughing about it in his face this time. But Marc was just an acquaintance, so he just continued on like nothing had happened. “This is more of a temporary thing.”

Though he was just an acquaintance, it was hard not to be curious about Marc. On one of their next encounters, he was asking the questions yet again. “Why do you wear those all the time?”

Marc touched the edge of his hat. “You mean the disguise?”

Sure it was a strange statement, but Ace didn’t expect much else. He shrugged. “Well you said it not me.”

“I think that’s pretty self-explanatory then.”

It really wasn’t. There were several reasons why one might wear a disguise, though wearing such an obvious one in a popular café in broad daylight seemed questionable no matter what. “Hm…. Maybe you’re a criminal in hiding?”

“I don’t think I’d be stupid enough to go out in public if I was,” Marc said. “Kind of a quick assumption, don’t you think?”

“My grandfather was a police officer. Gut reaction.”

“Still an extreme gut reaction in my opinion.”

“You still didn’t answer my question.”

Marc was quiet as he set down his teacup. “It’s just… a part of living in this city, I guess. Or rather, a part of being me.”

Part of Ace wanted to roll his eyes, but Rouge had taught him that that was rude, even if he did think that Marc’s logic was more than stupid. “Are you really being you if you have to wear a disguise though?”

Marc stared. “Well, you have a point, but—”

“Exactly. I think you should lose the disguise. What could go wrong?”

* * *

Turns out, things could go very wrong.

“Congratulations.” 

Ace couldn’t help scowling at Sabo’s dry (as usual) teasing. It especially wasn’t welcome on today of all days. “I just got home! I didn’t even say anything yet!”

“You didn’t have to.” Sabo held up his phone from the couch. Ace took it to see the news. “It’s on Twitter.”

“Ugh.”

**What’s Happening: Celebrity • Earlier today**

_ “Waiter fired after spilling hot coffee on movie star Marco Newgate.” _

“Stupid. Can’t even be bothered to report it right.” Marc— Marco— hardly ever ordered coffee. Always tea.

_ Twitter user @faangirl88 posted a video of Marco Newgate’s visit to popular caf _ é _ Handsome’s. People crowded around to get a view of the celeb only for all to witness the waiter’s blunder. Shortly afterwards, eyewitnesses reported sounds of yelling coming from the back room followed by the waiter storming out of the café. _

**_One Bad Bird_ ** _ @faangirl88 _

_ seriously @handsomesofficial????? i thought your hiring and job training practices were better than this, but clearly not. what if @MarcoNewgate got seriously injured? _

Of course, below was the offending video itself.

_ “Marco, Marco! Look over here!”  _ A girl— probably ‘faangirl88’ herself— called. She reached out past her phone and grabbed the air in his direction. Ace recognized him immediately. Mainly from the haircut, and he had been there after all.

People had crowded around the table to get a look or ask a question. Something that hadn’t been captured on video was the way Marc— no, Marco— smiled at all of them. He didn’t even try to ask for privacy.

Ace wanted to look away when he walked into the shot. He didn’t need to see it on video, but the moment replayed in is mind anyways.

* * *

_ “Excuse me, ladies,” he said, attempting to maneuver his way to Marco’s table. Nobody listened to him though as people continued to chatter and take pictures. “Fucking celebrities…” He should have known something like this would happen. _

_ But suddenly the man smiled at him, a familiar smile that Ace had seen many times.  _

_ “Outta my way!” another girl yelled. “I need Marco’s autograph!” _

_ “Shit!” _

_ Ace was far from clumsy, but it was impossible to keep the tea properly balance with the combination of his sudden realization along with being shoved aside. _

_ “Ah!” The tea had been piping hot _ — _ the perfect temperature for consumption. Not so perfect for the clothes, but now it was all over the guy’s lap. Great.  _

_ Ace quickly unfolded his spare napkin, starting to dab at the mess. “I’m so sorry, sir!” _

_ “I—it’s fine, Ace! It doesn’t even hurt that much.” _

_ They hadn’t even realized that the chatter had died down only to explode moments later. “He hurt Marco!” _

_ After the complaints of all those fans, it didn’t take much for the manager to call him to the back. “You realize how bad this is for our publicity?”  _

_ “It was just an accident!” Ace growled. _

_ “But it’s already all over social media, idiot! We can’t afford ‘mistakes’ or ‘accidents’ here!” If Ace reached out and poked his manager, the guy would probably pop like a balloon. “I’m docking your pay and putting you on dish duty.” _

_ Was all this really worth it for a simple accident? If his job was ruined anyways then did it really matter anymore? “Whatever. I’m out of here.” _

_ “Excuse me?” _

_ “I said, I’m fucking leaving!” _

_ He pushed out the door into the dining room, proceeding to storm through the crowd of fangirls that still insisted on crowding the caf _ é _. _

_ “Ace, wait!” _

* * *

“New travels way too fast. Move over,” Ace said, shoving Sabo’s legs aside before collapsing on the couch.

“He tweeted about it too.”

**Marco Newgate** @MarcoNewgate

_ This was all a big misunderstanding. He only spilled the drink because it was too crowded. I don’t plan to sue and I don’t think that he should have been fired over this incident. If there’s anything I can do to help him get his job please contact me @handsomesofficial. _

Ace scrolled down to the replies and rolled his eyes. “Of course. ‘Marco we love you! You’re so cool!’” He mocked with a scowl. “Stupid Marc. Can’t believe he was some dumb celebrity.”

“Marc?” Sabo sat up, almost kicking Ace’s cheek in the process. “ _ That  _ was the Marc you kept talking about?” he asked.

“I don’t talk about him that much!” And there was no way he was going to anymore, he added mentally.

“He really didn’t put much effort into that fake name, did he?”

“Is that all you can say?”

He shrugged. “The guy did offer to help get your job back, you know.”

“He’s probably just doing that for the good publicity,” Ace argued. He tossed Sabo’s phone back into his lap. “Besides, I don’t even want to go back to that job if people are gonna make a big deal out of it.”

“And your share of the rent money for this month?”

Ace sat up a little straighter and cursed. He completely forgot about all of that with how hectic the day had been.

“We can always let mom know if it’s an emergency.”

“We’re not doing that.” Their family had comfortable savings thanks to Ace’s father, but even so, Ace didn't want to worry Rouge. They were supposed to prove themselves as independent adults after all. He sighed, pulling out his own phone and scrolling through the contact list. He stared at the number and bit his lip.

“I guess I'm calling Shanks.”

**Not so Lucky Ace** @firespadefist

_ Replying to @MarcoNewgate _

_ Thanks, but no thanks. I don’t plan on returning to @handsomesofficial. You and your fans can take your self-righteousness elsewhere. _


	4. Chapter 4

To say that the situation was less than ideal was an understatement.

Of course, he had been in similar, yet worse situations. This was not the first time his fans had defended him like this, and he heavily doubted that it would be the last time, but Ace was a genuinely nice guy. He didn’t deserve any of this hate, though Marco didn’t blame him for wanting to stay away from Handsome’s after that.

He had seen the tweet of course:

 **Not so Lucky Ace** @firespadefist

_Replying to @MarcoNewgate_

_Thanks, but no thanks. I don’t plan on returning to @handsomesofficial. You and your fans can take your self-righteousness elsewhere._

It was unfortunate that he hadn’t checked his Twitter notifications until after he visited Handsome’s again the next day. He had been able to contact the management ahead of time so he was able to meet up with the man in the morning before opening.

**“I am so sorry about the incident yesterday, Mr. Newgate!” Marco hadn’t even asked, but the manager had brought him a hot cup of tea and a freshly baked apple tart. ‘Mr. Newgate’ felt much too formal and old, but this wasn’t exactly a casual situation. “If you plan to press charges, I am happy to provide you with the waiter’s information.**

**‘The waiter’ aka, Ace. Did this guy even bother to learn the names of his employees? “Not at all. In fact, as I stated in my message, I’m here for the opposite reason. Would it be possible to get Ace his job back?”**

**The manager didn’t hesitate for even a fraction of a second. “I think he made his feelings very clear yesterday.”**

**Marco raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean? I thought you fired him.”**

**“Oh no. He quit, which is good for us since that’s one less paycheck I have to write!”**

**It wasn’t hard to hide the disgust that he felt. It was his job after all, and this wasn’t exactly the first time he had been in some sort of negotiation. He did help Pops with some of the more business aspects of the studio after all.**

**“He won’t be returning.”**

**“Ah, I see.” Marco looked down at his teacup. It was still half-empty, but his stomach felt heavy, and he didn’t think finishing was worth it. “Thank you for your time then.”**

**“No problem. Come  back any time, sir!”**

**He didn’t plan on it. He could find a good cup of tea elsewhere.**

* * *

Having to hop into a day of filming (like pretty much every day) didn’t help his mood at all either. They had originally slated the day to shoot some of his solo scenes since Hancock had a modeling job booked. The crew had done a wonderful job constructing the set that would serve as an apartment.

This was an important scene— at least symbolically. His character’s boyfriend was out late working— the boyfriend that knew nothing of “Jericho Solis’s” double life as a spy. Their apartment— neat and pristine fall into ruin.

 **“Shit!”** Marco, in character, cursed quietly, clutching the “bullet wound” at his side. He smeared “blood” as he held himself up against the off-white walls (set designer’s note: if he’s living a double life, their apartment can’t be too pure. No pure white).  

He reached the kitchen of the set, sloppily rummaging through one of the cabinets for the medical supplies his character had hidden. This was supposed to be a graphic scene in which he removed the bullet and sewed his wound up, bloodying and messing up the peaceful life he had created.

Good thing that Marco had plenty of frustration to let out through his acting. The scene was full of cursing and screams (albeit restrained as to try not to alert anyone). It cost several moments in makeup as well as a number of bags of fake blood, but he poured everything he had into that scene.

Despite the earlier incident, at least he could be proud of his performance.

**“I… I can’t die. I’m the Phoenix!”**

* * *

He was pleasantly surprised to find another letter waiting for him in his mailbox. It had totally slipped his minds after the “excitement” of the past few days, but at least this would help him take his mind off of things.

**Dear Phoenix,**

**So, scratch that stuff with the job (nothing to do with the degree, by the way). Things got COMPLICATED in the worst way. Well, long story short** — **that job isn’t gonna cut it anymore. I’d really rather not talk about it (too much of a pain). I’ll try to move past it and get back on my feet.**

Marco stopped reading and bit his lip. This was supposed to take his mind off the whole fiasco with Ace off of his mind, but it was hard not to think about it when Fire Fist was in a similar situation.Thankfully, the next line was a sigh of relief.

**Try not to worry too much though (because I know you’ll worry, silly bird). I have a backup plan. A family friend actually offered me a job. I wasn’t going to take it originally, but hey, I need the money.**

**Honestly, this letter was going to be about something else entirely, but I thought it was only fair to update you on the situation. I met someone too I guess? Just not really in THAT way. I was going to ask for some advice (on how to let him down easy or something), but I don’t think I’ll be seeing him again.**

**Write back soon please?**

**Sincerely,**

**-Fire Fist**

**P.S. Sorry that there’s no flower with this one. I sorta ran out of time, but I’ll make it up to you.**

It was a shame that he didn’t have a new flower to press into his notebook (the daisy was quite lonely for now), but he still tucked the letter into his special storage box, which sat on the shelf next to his notebook.

“Hm?” His phone started to vibrate where he left it on the counter. Marco frowned when he saw the caller ID, but it was probably work related, so he didn’t have much of a choice. “Yeah, Shanks?”

_“Hey, buddy!”_

“Please don’t call me that.”

“ _Yeah, yeah.”_ Shanks laughed from his end of the call. _“Wanted to let you know that I found an assistant for you!”_

Marco sighed. It was impossible to contain a grimace when thinking of the past few times he had an “assistant” during filming. The hiring process had gone horribly and he ended up with exuberant by his side instead of someone who was focused on actually helping him. “As I’ve said many times before, I can manage perfectly fine without an assistant, Shanks.”

_“I think otherwise.”_

Marco sat straight up. He recognized the deep voice right away. It was unmistakably his father. “Pops. I didn’t know you were there too.”

_“My son, I know you don’t feel as if this is necessary, but I think this may be beneficial for you. You’re going to work on this other project.”_

“I double majored in college, Pops. I know how to manage my time.”

Pops was quiet from the other end, but Marco could imagine his raised eyebrow and stern frown. It was just like in college when he first told Pops that he was planning on doing a double major.

‘Burnout’ had been the term Pops had used. Not that he was disappointed that Marco wanted to do both acting and photography. It was more that he was concerned, which was understandable since he had many children to worry about.

_“I don’t want you to burn yourself out again, son.”_

‘Again’ he said, because it had happened before.

* * *

**Finals time was undoubtedly the most stressful part of the school year. It felt that everything was happening at once: papers due, exams to study for, performances for school, auditions for some minor roles, and photography projects. He didn’t even have time for himself.**

**Marco scribbled his notes, frantically glancing back at his textbook. He didn’t know why he decided to put off taking math until now. If he didn’t pass this now, then he’d have to take it yet again, which would be such a pain.**

**In the process of his notetaking, his elbow bumped into some papers at the edge of his desk, knocking them onto the floor.**

**He paused, looking over at the mess. “Damn,” he cursed quietly, setting his pen down so that he could clean up the mess. Yet as soon as he glanced at the letter he was holding, his stress melted away.**

**It was an unopened letter from Fire Fist. He must have forgotten to read it with how busy he had been lately.**

**_Dear Phoenix,_ **

**_I know you haven’t written back yet, but I remember that you told me you were about to have finals. This one is just gonna be quick. Remember to take some time for yourself, bird brain. You got this. Even if math sucks, all you have to do is get this one over with. I know you’re not one who’ll just fail._ **

**_Make sure to get rest and call home if you need to, and just in case, I included something special for you._ **

**_Best of luck,_ **

**_Fire Fist_ **

**_P.S. Ma wanted to include something for you too to help you destress. I hope you like it!_ **

**Marco was willing to bet that the four leaf clover taped to the page was from Fire Fist, but of course, he appreciated the tea bag included within the envelope.**

**He smiled, closed his textbook, and picked up his phone.**

**“I was wondering if you were going to call. How are you, my son?”**

* * *

Maybe it was a fair assessment that he wouldn’t take a break unless someone told him, but could he really trust that job to some random hire?

Shanks was back on the line this time. _“Trust me this time, Marco. I know him personally, and he’s a good guy.”_

“He?” At least he wouldn’t be stuck with some rabid fangirl again.

_“Won’t be like the last time, and we all know that you could use someone to watch your back.”_

At the end of the day, he knew it was his decision, and even if it didn’t work out, maybe Shank would be able to find the guy another job at the studio. This wouldn’t be so bad, right?

“Fine. I’ll give him a chance.”


	5. Chapter 5

**** Ace paused when he exited the subway station. It was located rather close to the entrance of the studio, which was convenient, but at the same time it was crowded. Many people were hard at work, but of course, it was also a popular tourist destination as people took pictures in front of the gate. 

How was he even going to get in? “I probably look like just another tourist.”

It was a movie studio, and clearly he was far from glamorous. Just a boy from the countryside who knew little to nothing about pop culture or movies or anything like that. If you told Ace seven years ago that he would be working at a movie studio alongside actors, he wouldn’t have believed you. He hadn’t really grown up with much of that after all. The only thing he knew about actors was what Phoenix told him.

* * *

**It had been after Ace had finally started getting along with Phoenix. Their next series of letters was like small talk as they got to know each other. It was embarrassing, but Ace had gone to Rouge for advice about it.**

**“I dunno what to write about,” he muttered quietly, looking away with a blush. “How do you do something like this?”**

**“Aw, firefly. This is really important to you, isn’t it?” She smiled and then took one of the napkins. “Pen?”**

**In a couple of seconds, she had scribbled a short list of things that he could ask about: hobbies, family, pets, and more.**

**Within the next week, he had received his letter back.**

**_Dear Fire Fist,_ **

**_Hobbies, you say?_ **

**_Well, I actually like acting. It’s fun to work together with others and be a part of something that people can enjoy. I actually have an important audition coming pretty soon. I did first play when my Pops was going through some hard times. He said it really cheered him up, and I want to make other people feel that way._ **

**_And photography is fun for me too. Capturing a cool, beautiful moment is fun, and it’s a nice break from everything else. My family used to think that I was going to become a photographer since I was always putting up photos on my wall, but who knows. How about you?_ **

**Sincerely,**

**Phoenix**

**Ace didn’t expect the next part.**

**_P.S. I included a photo to show you. I hope you like it!_ **

**It was a small square photo of a litter of white puppies. There was a message written on the back:** **_Our family is thinking of getting a dog. All of them are really adorable though._ **

**His response letter was filled with all sorts of questions- “I’ve never seen a play before. What’s it like?” and “Is acting hard? I’ve never really done it.” And of course, he also put in his two cents about which puppy they should choose. He was even a bit embarrassed by how much he had asked, but Phoenix answered anyways.**

**That was something Ace loved about this. Phoenix never treated him like he was stupid and he always answered his questions. He really was the friend Ace had needed.**

* * *

Even if Phoenix had told him some minor stuff, Ace still knew nothing about this industry. Hopefully he could just keep his head down in whatever job Shanks had lined for him.

“Ace!”

He froze when his name was called, and it was hard not to instead focus on the whispers around him.

“Isn’t that that famous director?”

“I wonder who else we’ll see around here?”

Ace ducked his head down as he walked up to Shanks. “Hey, Shanks. Thanks for this.”

Shanks patted his back. “No problem!”

Shanks guided him inside with a smile and wave to security, People were still staring, and so upon entering the studio Ace’s head was already spinning, senses overloaded with anything and everything happening around him: colors and movement of crew members pushing carts full of props by them, people calling names or just idly chatting as they hustled to their next destination, and much more.

“I didn’t really know what I was supposed to do, so thanks, I guess?” Ace confessed. “Though honestly, I didn’t think you would greet me.” Shanks hadn’t exactly  provided him with a ton of information. All he told him was to come to the studio along with the address (which was something that Ace could have searched easily).

“Well you would have got lost quickly. Things are going to be hectic around here with the Wings sequel filming.”

“Wings?” Made him think of chicken. Shame he didn’t get a chance for breakfast.

“Spy movie. Got a lot lined up for this one, so you better be ready to help out.”

Yeah. Help out. Sure. But…. “What exactly am I supposed to be doing?” A job was a job and he wasn’t going to complain since he needed it right now, but he really should have asked yesterday.

“Oh yeah,” Shanks said. “I forgot to tell you about that, didn’t I.”

Ace didn’t reply, instead shooting Shanks the same half-annoyed look he gave him whenever he visited and talked about how tall they were getting:  _ “Not that you’ll ever catch up to me, _ ” he would say, and dammit he was right.

“Well let’s step into my office and I can give you the details. You good with starting today, right?”

“Director Shanks!” A man with spiky, red hair rushed over. “You’re needed on the set!”

“Oh?” Shanks tilted his head, then glanced at the clock sitting atop the wall. He grinned sheepishly. “Ah, I didn’t notice the time. My bad! I’ll be over in a second.”

Ace held in a sigh. He really was just interrupting things by being here. “I can just wait here so I’m out of the way if that’s fine—”

“No need. I can show him around.” A new voice interrupted him as someone grabbed his arm. Sudden contact wasn’t something that he was used to, but slamming another crew member against the ground probably wouldn’t make for a good first impression.

“Really? Thanks, Izo!”

Ace stared at his new companion in confusion. “Hi there. I’m Izo from the costume department.” Thankfully, he let go of Ace, brushing a lock of hair out of his face. He muttered something quietly then adjusted his loose bun and held a hand out yet again. “Nice to meet you.”

“Uh, yeah. I’m Ace.” Ace shook his hand. It was soft. “Hey, if you’re in costume design, why are you giving me a tour? Don’t you have better things to do?”

“Maybe so.” Yet even with those words, Izo didn’t seem fazed at all. He smirked. “Play along with my curiosity, won’t you, Ace?”

“What curiosity?”

Ace looked over at Shanks to ask him for help, but he had already vanished. “Dammit.” He followed Izo. Better to get this tour over with now.

“Come along, Ace.”

Just as fast as he entered, he was whisked back outside. “They’re filming on one of the larger stages today, but frankly I don’t want to walk that far and I don’t feel like waiting for a golf cart.”

“Golf cart?”

“It’s a big place, so we use them to get around when we need to get from place to place quickly.”

Honestly, Ace didn’t know what to make of Izo. Everything was just moving so fast around him. It was comforting to be around Shanks at first, but he should have known that he was too busy to stick around. 

“So am I working for you or something?” Ace asked. “Is that why you offered to give me a tour?”

“Well we won’t be working together directly since I’m in costumes. Believe me, it’s busy enough there.”

“Everything looks pretty busy.”

“It’s a big production. Get ready to work long days.”

Questions bounced around in Ace’s head once more:  _ What production? How long? What’s my actual job?  _ But before Ace could even ask any questions, Izo continued up to the entrance of a building labelled “Stage 2.” He was really the type to go at his own pace.

And truly, Ace was still getting used to said pace as they walked through an open room that seemed to have some sort of fake apartment in the middle. “This is one of the sets for this production,” Izo said. Ace tried to get a better look, but Izo pulled him into a hallway. “Most of the stages are laid out like this, though some are bigger.” They passed a few different rooms: a couple of offices, a door labelled hair and makeup, and of course, bathrooms. 

“Any questions so far?”

“Uh, yeah.” Ace tried to hold back his annoyance. “What—” His own stomach cut him off when it growled. The confusion had distracted him from how hungry he was. 

Izo frowned. “Oh dear.”

“Sorry. I just forgot to eat lunch.”

“That won’t do. Is that why you’ve been scowling at me this whole time?” Ace blushed and it didn’t help that Izo giggled at him. 

“I used to work at a café, so I could just grab lunch there,” he argued. He was missing that luxury at least. Here, he didn’t even know where to go to eat.

“Hm. A café?” Izo stared at him. Ace really hoped he hadn’t seen that video, but thankfully, he dropped the issue. “Let’s go back to the offices then. There’s someplace we can eat there.”

Ace was more than surprised to learn that there was a cafeteria on lot with a full equipped kitchen. “We need to be well fed to function properly,” Izo said. “Though that’s true of any job.”

Thankfully, the lunch room wasn’t completely packed. There was a quiet corner they could sit in. “Do I have to pay or something?” Ace asked. He pat his pocket to make sure his wallet was there.

“Well either you pay or use your employee ID, but seeing as if you don’t have one yet, it will be my treat. The least I could do after dragging you around like that.”

Lunch turned out to be a chicken sandwich with a side of home fries. It seemed like something simple, yet it was delicious. 

He was just finishing off the last of his potatoes, absentmindedly listening to Izo chat, when someone else approached their table. “Is this him, Izo?”

“Mm hm. Ace, this is Thatch. He’s in charge of nourishment and refreshment and whatnot.”

“ _ Head chef  _ here thank you very much!” Proud guy, Ace thought, though he didn’t voice this outloud, especially since he was still busy worshipping these potatoes.

“Nice to meet you,” Ace said. “Love the food, by the way. Anyways, I can get more of these potatoes?"

“Sure, man! Feel free to come to me any time you’re hungry. I’ll hook you up.” Thatch grinned, but then it faltered for a second. “Say you look familiar actually.”

Damned if this guy saw that video too, especially after Ace so embarrassingly asked for more potatoes.

“Nah, must be nothing. Come on, I’ll get you some more.”

“Actually,” Izo chimed in, holding up his phone, “we’re going to have to postpone that. Pops texted and he wants to meet Ace.”

“Pops?” 

“Yes. The head of the studio. Edward Newgate.”

* * *

When Ace woke up this morning, he thought he was going to get a simple studio tour from his uncle. He didn’t think that hours later, he would be standing in front of the head of a major film studio. Sure, Izo was there and Shanks had finally showed back up, but that didn’t make the experience any less intimidating, especially when the man towered over all of them.

“You’re Ace, yes? Shanks has told me a lot about you.”

“Probably all the embarrassing stuff if I had to guess,” Ace groaned, yet somehow this made him laugh when Shanks protested.

“It was  _ all _ embarrassing stuff!”

“Sense of humor. I like that. I’m Edward Newgate, but people mainly call me Whitebeard.”

“Nice to meet you, sir.” Ace decided not to comment on the lack of a beard. 

“I assume that Shanks filled you in on your job details already?”

“Nope. Actually forgot that part,” Shanks said without a hint of shame in his voice. “My bad.”

“Well, you’ll be working with my son. Would you like to meet him first?”

Ace raised an eyebrow. Working with his son? He still didn’t know what he was doing. “Sure, I guess.”

“Come in.”

Right as that door opened, Ace cursed his luck and his brain for not figuring things out sooner. He recognized that haircut immediately, and the last names were the same.

“You!”


	6. Chapter 6

**** Marco recognized Ace immediately, and of course it helped that Ace exclaimed, “You!” 

Before Marco could say anything to that in response, Shanks grinned and started talking. “Oh you two know each other already? That’s great then!”

“No, it’s not great, Shanks,” Ace muttered, seemingly trying to keep quiet. Marco heard him anyways.

“You know him already, son?” This time Pops asked, though Marco wasn’t inclined to roll his eyes at his father.

“Yeah,” Marco said. “He used to work at the café I went to on breaks.” He glanced over at Ace, hoping that he would say something to confirm this, but Ace looked away instead, glaring at the wall.

“Oh.” Marco hadn’t realized that Izo was also in the room until he heard his voice. “I was wondering why he looked so familiar.” Izo loved having a social media presence, so it hadn’t surprised Marco that he had seen the video.

“Well why don’t you two get caught up while we sort out some of the paperwork for you, Ace?” Pops suggested. Ace opened his mouth— probably to protest— but before he could say anything, Shanks pushed them out into the hallway. Izo whispered something to Ace before scurrying away back to costumes.

It was hard to ignore the fact that Ace was glaring at him. Marco tried to just smile and bear it, thinking instead back to when they would have friendly conversations at the café (not that the café could be associated with particularly good memories now anyways). 

His first though was to start with small talk. “I’m glad you were able to find a job so quickly,” he said.

Marco waited for a response, but Ace just grunted quietly.

“So… you know Shanks?”

“Yep,” Ace answered. He didn’t elaborate.

“How did— how did that come about?”

Ace sighed. He crossed his arms. “Does it matter?”

In Marco’s mind, he knew that— as an actor— he was supposed to be charismatic and good with conversation, but now, it didn’t take a genius to realize that the conversation was just not going well at all.

Well, Ace was here to work, so maybe they should just cut to the chase?

“Look, Ace. I promise that this won’t be a stressful job. Even if it does seem kind of hectic, I’ll try to make it easy for you.”

Ace still refused to properly answer, so Marco opened his mouth to continue talking. Ace interrupted him right away. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Excuse me?”

“You think I’m just here for some easy ride to get some cash or some shit?”

“No? I mean, I didn’t mean to imply—”

“You probably think you’re being so generous, but I’m not just some lazy asshole!”

“Wait. What makes you think I even think that? Ace, I’m just trying to help you out here!”

“I already told you that I don’t want your help!”

“But—”

The office door opened, revealing a frowning Shanks. “Whoa, you two. Is something wrong out here?”

Marco wanted to say something, but he kept the words behind his tongue instead. He had a feeling that his words would only upset Ace even more.

Yet Ace grumbled, “We’re fine.” He didn’t look at Marco when he said this.

“If you say so. You can come in by the way, Ace.”

Ace walked past Marco, pausing for a moment. “I don’t want to talk to you right now,” he snapped. “If I’m gonna have to follow you around like a puppy dog, then I want my space now.”

With that, he entered the office again, slamming the door behind him.

* * *

Coming from someone with a lot of siblings, it was an understatement to say that fights sucked. There were times when he would get mad at his brothers for pranks, but typically, he tried to be the diplomatic one. His worst fight hadn’t even been with one of his brothers.

It had been with Fire Fist. 

**The program had been established for high school students in order to help them reach out and make friends, and now, Marco was about to graduate. He enjoyed his exchanges with Fire Fist very much, but from what he knew, no one really continued the program into college. It had been especially nerve-wracking awaiting this particular response considering what he had written in his last letter, but Fire Fist would probably understand.**

**Marco checked the mailbox as soon as he got home from school. He had been later than usual since he had a production coming up at school. Thankfully, no one had retrieved the mail yet (they would have teased him so much as they always did when a letter from Fire Fist arrived).**

**He recognized the bright orange envelope right away. Fire Fist always used orange envelopes, just like Phoenix always used light blue envelopes. Usually he would sort the rest of the mail, but this time, he was too anxious to see the reply. He rushed to his room right away, but just as he was about to open the envelope, he noticed that something was off.**

**Marco had sent Fire Fist a sheet of stickers** — **specifically stickers of cutesy tigers** — **after he mentioned that he never had any fun stationery. After that, Fire Fist would place one of the stickers on the seal of the envelope, but this time, it was absent.**

**The letter didn’t even start off with a greeting.**

**_What the fuck do you mean that this is gonna end soon?_ **

**Fire Fist hadn’t cursed in his letters in a while, but he was clearly never good at concealing his emotions. It didn’t help that he could feel how hard Fire Fist had pressed the pen against the paper from how the back of the paper felt.**

**_Did none of this even matter at all to you? You can’t write me just because you’re going off to college? If you really cared then you wouldn’t let this happen._ **

**_I can’t believe that you kept this up if it was just going to end anyways. I shouldn't have ever joined this stupid pen-pal program in the first place._ **

**_Don’t bother writing back._ **

**He hadn’t even signed it. It was hard not to feel nauseous. Marco had seen how Fire Fist had grown during the course of their letter exchanges, so he thought that maybe he would understand. Maybe he should have waited before saying anything. Now, even if he tried to send another letter, he doubted Fire Fist would read it.**

**He had ruined his friendship.**

**Pops found him in his room a couple of hours later, staring at the ceiling. “Is everything alright, my son?” he asked.**

**Marco sat up slowly, still clutching the letter. “It’s Fire Fist.”**

**Pops sat at the foot of his bed and took the letter. It wasn’t very long, so it didn’t take him long at all to read.**

**“I see.”**

**“I want to apologize to him, Pops, but I don’t think he’ll listen.”**

**Pops patted Marco’s shoulder. Even if Marco was old enough to take care of himself, it was always comforting to have Pops’s warmth beside him in times of need. “How important is he to you, son?”**

**Marco didn’t hesitate. “Very.” Through their weekly letters, Fire Fist had really become someone who he could trust.**

**“Then write. Your feelings will come through.”**

**“But what if he never answers ever again?” Marco asked.**

**“If he values this friendship as much as you do, then he will answer.” Before Marco knew it, Pops had slipped a pen and a piece of paper into his hand. “Now get to it!”**

**Marco nodded and watched as Pops left his room. “Oh, son? You can keep sending letters if you want to, but that’s something you’ll have to figure out with Fire Fist.”**

**And Marco was determined to. He should have realized it before, but this was too important to lose now.**

* * *

Marco didn’t know what compelled him to do it, but when he got back to his apartment, he sat at his desk with a pen and paper. Something almost felt wrong about it, like maybe he was betraying Fire Fist, but it’s what felt right.

So he would go with it.


	7. Chapter 7

“You actually said that?!”

Ace scowled at Sabo when he said that spraying Chinese takeout all over his face. “Thanks, ass.”

Sabo pointed his chopsticks at him. “Don’t just say shit like that when I’m trying to eat then! You could have lost that job too!”

“I wasn’t gonna,” Ace muttered. He really was lucky that Shanks gave him this job. He was even luckier that Marco hadn’t said anything about it. At least, not yet.

“Still, just your luck. I completely forgot that Shanks was working on a movie with him.”

He sounded so casual about it. “You knew?”

“I think it was on Twitter when they announced the movie, but eh…. It’s not like I thought it was going to become important,” Sabo said. “So what are you gonna do then?”

“Ugh. I handled it. Hopefully.”

* * *

Ace was surprised at how busy the studio was even early in the morning. He hadn’t known what to expect, even when Shanks and Whitebeard had told him about the hustle and deadlines.

He barely got a moment to rest even when putting some of his things away. There was locker space for crew members to keep things in during the day, and even that space was buzzing with people.

Ace’s locker was locker 121— thankfully easy to remember. The combination was more complicated however: 11-10-05. He’d never been good at combination locks in high school. He’d always spin a bit too far to the left or right and would have to start all over. He probably would have broken his locker door so many times in frustration if not for Sabo’s help.

Frustration was the last thing he needed right now. While he was able to negotiate his work situation with Shanks and Whitebeard, he was still on edge. 

Though he already encountered a problem once he reached his locker. 

“Marc-o.” Ace scowled when Marco looked back at him, freezing in his path. Ace blushed from his own stutter.

“Good morning, Ace.” He shuffled closer to Ace’s left, which was closer to the exit. 

“What are you doing here?” However before Marco could answer him, Marco’s phone rang. 

“Sorry. Got to take this,” he said. “See you later?” He walked away with a wave, but he didn’t wait for Ace’s answer. 

“Ugh,” Ace grunted. He stomped over to his locker, earning stares form his fellow crew members. Ace tried to ignore it, but it didn’t help when he— unsurprisingly— fumbled with the lock. 

He was expecting it to be completely empty of course, and for the most part it was. But there was a paper inside. He was about to just pick it up and toss it into the nearby garbage can, but then he noticed what it said in beautiful cursive:  _ Ace. _

He couldn’t help himself. Instincts took over. Whenever he received a letter, he couldn’t help just tearing into it (though this had led to disappointments before when it wasn’t a letter from Phoenix).

_ Dear Ace, _

_ I wanted to apologize. Even if you don’t want it, I want to say it anyways. It’s immature for me to think that I can get you to like me as we are now, so let’s start over. _

_ Hi. I’m Marco Newgate. I work as an actor. I like to go out and get tea on my acting breaks and I use a dumb disguise and an even dumber fake name that’s only one letter off from my real name. I like photography and flowers or any combination of the two. _

_ I don’t care if you think this is dumb and I don’t even know if this will work or not, but this is how I wanted to say things. No matter what you think, it was never my intention to hurt you. I can’t go back to that caf _ é _ anymore. Not after what happened. We’re just acquaintances, but someone’s well-being _ — _ your well-being _ — _ means more to me than some tea. _

_ You don’t have to forgive me. I just want you to know this. _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Marco _

* * *

He hadn’t gone to Marco’s trailer yet, even though it was supposed to be his job. Thankfully, he wasn’t going to get in trouble for it after talking with his new bosses. The whole process of explaining what had happened on Twitter was pretty embarrassing.

_ “We’ll let you ease into it then, but here,”  _ Shanks handed him a folder.  _ “That’s information for filming, including the schedule. Marco’s schedule is in there too.” _

I don’t want it, Ace was about to say, but Whitebeard spoke first.  _ “Check in on him if you can, please? I worry he’ll overwork himself again.” _

Of course, Marco just  _ had _ to remind him of a certain birdbrain, so he said yes.

Currently, Ace was helping out Izo, pushing his wardrobe racks for him. They were surprisingly heavy for just clothes, but there was a lot on each. It wasn’t much of a problem for Ace anyways. And at least he was familiar with Izo, even though they hadn’t been around each other long. 

“You know,” Izo said, curling a strand of loose hair around his finger. “As much as I appreciate having your help, aren’t you supposed to be doing something else?”

Ace hummed quietly. His mind fixed on another subject. Why did it just have to be a letter? Why did it have to be Marco? It was unfair, like Marco knew about how he would feel about a letter.  

“Ace? Hello?” Izo snapped in his face. 

“Er, yeah?” 

“Honestly, you know you shouldn’t be so scatterbrained if you’re going to keep up,” Izo sighed. “Anyways, shouldn’t you be with Marco?”

“I, uh— it’s complicated.” 

Izo arched an eyebrow. “How complicated?”

Ace could just say that it was just a long story and be done with it, but he honestly didn’t think that was going to work. “You know that café incident with Marco?”

“Of course I do. It was all over Twitter.” It clicked seconds later. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Part of Ace was glad that it went without saying. The other part hated how notorious the incident had been. It had already been a few days. Couldn’t this fade faster?

“No wonder you didn’t want to work with him,” Izo said. “I know Marco means well, even if you don’t really see it right now. Are you going to be okay though?” He searched through tags on the garment bags as he waited for Ace’s answer.

“I actually did tell Shanks that I would try,” Ace admitted. 

“Good then!” Izo suddenly perked up. He grabbed a bag off the wardrobe rack and shoved it into Ace’s arms. “Go bring that to Marco’s trailer then.”

“Wh-what?” 

“You heard me.”

Ace adjusted his grip on the bag. “Fine.” He gave in. Maybe this was for the best. He  _ did _ say that he would try, and besides, maybe doing this would be the only way to get this off of his mind.

“Before I do that, do you have a paper and pen?”

Izo’s directions to Marco’s trailer were fairly simple, but Ace still felt lost. Sort of.

He was expecting it to be easy to find. Something with a gaudy star on the front with his name plastered on it. The door in front of him was plain, leading Ace to wonder if he was in the right place at all. 

Ace tightened his grip on the bag and approached the door. He wasn’t about to chicken out now (especially since he had an actual job to do). He raised his fist and knocked three times. 

He heard a muffled call from the other side of the door and seconds later, Marco answered the door. His hair was slightly out of place and he was wearing a blue t-shirt. He looked more casual than Ace had ever seen him. Even from earlier today, Ace couldn’t recall him wearing that. Ace noticed the way his eyes widened before pulling a smile.

“Hey, Ace,” he greeted. He leaned against the doorframe on his forearm. “Can I help you?”

“Ah…” It was hard not to think about how awkward this felt. “Izo asked me to bring this to you to make sure it fit.” He held up the garment bag, but faltered when he thought about what he was going to say next. “I wanted to talk to you though. Can I— uh... can I come in?”

He wasn’t sure how Marco would answer, yet somehow, he found himself standing in Marco’s trailer. It was surprisingly spacious. There was a kitchenette and small dining area with an open laptop sat on the table. The rest of the trailer was concealed by an olive-green curtain.

“Take a seat if you’d like.” Marco gestured to the booth next to the table. “I’ll try this on. I can hear you through the curtain, so just feel free to talk, but you can wait if you want.”

Ace nodded, sighing in relief when Marco passed through the curtain. Maybe it was a bit cowardly, but it was easier to let the words flow when he didn’t have to look at him.

“So I, uh, I read your letter,” he started.

“Really?” Marco asked. He paused for a moment. Ace listened, but all he could hear was the ruffle of clothing. “Thank god. I wasn’t sure you would.”

Of course he was going to read a letter for him, but he wasn’t really something he felt like admitting that to Marco. He thought it would be best to be vague instead. “It reminded me of a friend, so…”

“I see.”

“Yeah, so I felt like I should apologize.” Ace was still glad that Marco was in the other room. He didn’t want him to see his blush. It was always hard to admit when he was wrong, especially on his own, but it reminded him of back then.

* * *

**Ace couldn’t believe it. Phoenix, who was supposed to be his friend, was done with him. He didn’t know what to say besides that he felt like shit.**

**_Dear Fire Fist,_ **

**_Oh, so you’re helping out with your mom more in the shop? I hope she’s okay. You did say that she overdoes it sometimes. Has she thought about hiring any other workers? It might help._ **

**_Also, you told me you had a break from school soon anyways, so even though you’re late on replying, I could have waited anyways._ **

**That first half of the letter started as normal as ever, but when Ace reached the end, it broke him:**

**_By the way, I’m actually graduating soon. And I’m glad to leave high school, but I hate to say this. The letter program doesn’t really go into college as far as I know, so I thought that we should prepare for when it ends, but it’s not like I want it to end, I just don’t really see how we would be able to keep going with it. I’m sorry, Fire Fist. I want to send you a package if that’s okay. It would be a present to make it up to you._ **

**_I hope you understand. I really will miss you._ **

**_Sincerely,_ **

**_Phoenix_ **

**He had included a picture too like always: A polaroid of a graduation cap atop neatly folded graduation robes. Ace tore it in half. He responded with a letter of his own. If Phoenix was done with him, he was going to end it first.**

**“Ace?” Rouge peaked her head into his room. He grunted in response. “What’s wrong, firefly?”**

**His eyes glanced over at his desk, where the letter and the remains of the photo sat. He hoped she didn’t notice, but seconds later, she was holding the letter. Their letters were never too long, but it felt like it took forever for her to read it.**

**“Oh, Ace.” There was sadness in her voice as she brought her arms around him. “I’m so sorry.”**

**“It’s fine,” Ace muttered into his arms. “It** — **it’s not like I nee** — **needed him anyways!” Portgas D. Ace did not cry, damn it, but it still fucking hurt no matter how hard he tried.**

**“Well, why don’t you write him and try to work something out?” Rouge suggested. She got up and grabbed a fresh sheet of paper. She slipped his favorite pen** — **the one he only used to write letters to Phoenix** — **into his hand. “I don’t see why you have to lose touch even if the program ends.”**

**“I, um… I already wrote him.”**

**“You did?”**

**When she found out what Ace had written to Phoenix, Ace though she would be livid. She frowned instead and there was a slight wrinkle to her brow. Not angry. Just disappointed.**

**“Ace, I know it’s hard, but chasing him away will just make things worse.”**

**Ace couldn’t stop himself from arguing back. “But it hurts less.”**

**“Maybe for you, but what about how Phoenix feels?” Rouge asked. “It didn’t seem like he wanted it to end that much. You’re just going to hurt him more from that letter you sent, and you could have ended everything permanently.”**

**“I…” Ace trailed off. They did still have a few months left** — **at least they did before Ace sent that letter.**

**“Let’s try again. I’ll help you this time if you need it.” Rouge smiled at Ace. She squeezed his hand and led him over to his desk.**

**Ace blushed, using an arm to cover the paper, which was still blank. “I don’t need help, ma.”**

**She still stayed by him the rest of the night. He couldn’t have done it without her.**

* * *

“It was unfair of me to just write you off like that,” Ace admitted. It was weird just sitting there and spewing his thoughts out. All he could really do was glance around. His eyes wandered to the laptop. Some sort of photo program was open. He did say that he liked photography in his letter. “I mean, we talked a bunch from the café already, so I guess I should have known you better than that.”

“I can’t really fault you for that, though,” Marco responded. Ace wondered what was taking so long. It didn’t take that long to change, right? “I was still pretty much a stranger, even if I do want to be your friend now.”

Ace thought back to things Marc- Marco said to him in the café. He wasn’t stupid— unless Marco had changed his mind. Friend or something more?

“Well, I still just assumed you were some snobby celebrity, but you’re not really like that at all. I hope. So let’s start over then,” Ace answered, referencing Marco’s letter. “I’ll give you that chance.”

“I’m glad.” There was a clatter of metal as the curtain slipped aside. Marco cleaned up well, especially in an elaborate three-piece suit (even if his hair was still out of place). Suddenly, he smirked at Ace. “You’re blushing.”

“Wh— am not!” Ace exclaimed. He wasn’t going to admit that his cheeks felt hot. 

Maybe somehow this would work. He just hoped that Marco had found the letter he tucked into the suit.


	8. Chapter 8

The suit wasn’t exactly easy to move in. Even if Izo had chosen a different material for it, trying to execute fight scene choreography was still more difficult than rehearsal. Still, it was an impeccable suit. Izo really worked hard on it, especially since he had to make multiple versions of it. Currently, Marco was wearing one that was torn and messy from the fight his character had gotten in with rival spies. The jacket was torn at the shoulder and the vest was completely ripped open, the shirt missing a few buttons.

Of course, makeup had done their work too, making Marco look bruised and bloody. The sweat was real though.

“Cut!” Shanks called. He stood up from his chair. “Let’s take a break everyone! We’ll run it again after.”

With that, the silence of the stage was disrupted as everyone broke off.

Marco wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand and sat down in his chair. Damn. He’d get it next time. 

“Hey,” Ace walked over, holding a water bottle and a piece of paper. His next letter probably.

Marco never expected that Ace would write him back.

_ Dear Marco,  _

_ I kinda want to say that I hate you. It’s like you knew my weakness. Don’t ask why, but fine, I’ll give you a chance. _

_ Hey. I’m Portgas D. Ace and I don’t really know what I’m doing here. I guess I’m just trying to pay the bills. I used to be a waiter (but you knew that already). Also yeah, that disguise was really dumb. I like martial arts and flowers too because of my mom. _

_ Don’t make me regret this. _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Ace _

The day after that, Marco had slipped his response into Ace’s personal locker again, and the exchange just continued naturally from there.

Of course, they did actually talk face-to-face like normal as well. “That was really cool,” Ace complimented. He smiled as he handed the water to Marco.

“Thanks. It gets tiring to run it through so much though,” Marco said. The water was ice cold and it felt like the most refreshing drink of his life at that moment. “Ugh. Maybe I needed more practice, yoi.”

“It looked fine to me. I guess Shanks is more of a perfectionist than I thought.”

“This is a really big movie. People will be nitpicky if the scene is bad.” People loved to nitpick, and Marco knew about that all too well, though it didn’t bother him too much. 

“People are really like that?” Ace asked. He was still toying with the piece of paper in his hand. “I didn’t really know. That kinda sucks.”

Marco shrugged. “You get used to it. But I’m glad that an expert is satisfied with my performance.”

“How did you—?”

“It was in your first letter, remember?”

“I’m not an expert!” Ace denied it (it reminded Marco of Fire Fist), but he couldn’t hide how it really made him feel by how he grinned even wider somehow. 

“Don’t sell yourself short. I’d be nice if you’d be willing to help me out one day.”

“Only if you’re willing to get your ass kicked.”

It was amazing how quickly Ace had adjusted to the studio. He mainly hung around Izo, helping him move wardrobe, or Thatch, helping him bring lunch to the stage for the cast and crew. He wasn’t exactly sure what Ace’s actual job was (since he seemed to be doing anything and everything), but he seemed to be doing fine.

Marco was also surprised how easy things felt between them after Ace forgave him. He had been ecstatic when, at the end of the Ace’s first week, Ace offered to eat lunch with him (such a huge step forward), but then suddenly everything else felt like leaps. It was like they had known each other for a long time already. Maybe it was the letter writing. 

He did manage to rope Ace into helping him practice his fights scenes. The previous one wasn’t the first one and it wouldn’t be the last in a film with so much action planned. They met up early so it wouldn’t mess with their schedules. Marco offered to pick Ace up. 

**Ace [Sent 5:30am]: i need to go to the post office first. can you meet me there?**

So he drove up to the specified address at 6:17am. Ace was waiting, clutching the strap of his bookbag. 

He raised an eyebrow at Marco when he rolled the car window down. “A minivan?”

“It’s functional and inconspicuous.”

“Doesn’t seem very ‘celebrity.’”

Marco rolled his eyes at him. “You can take the train if you want to complain.”

“I’m coming!”

They made it at a decent time, and it was faster than waiting to take the train.

They were able to find a free studio room. The walls were lined with mirrors and there were blue mats leaning against the wall. 

“So how do you practice?” Ace asked. He grabbed one of the mats and pulled it towards the center of the room. He sat down, back against the wall.

“Well, I know how it’s supposed to go for the most part, but there’s a video on my laptop for reference.” 

“Cool. Can I…” Ace paused, stretching his arms above his head and yawning. “Can I see?”

Marco frowned. Clearly, Ace wasn’t as prepared as he thought, even if he did bring a change of clothes too. “Ace, do you need to sleep more?” Marco bent down to his eye level.

Ace waved his hand dismissively. “I… I’m fine! I said I’d help.”

Marco flicked his forehead.

“Ow!”

“Don’t lie, Ace.” Marco felt like he was scolding him. “You’ll just feel like shit later when you work. At least lie down for a bit.” 

“Fine,” Ace huffed. He crossed his arms. “But I’m not gonna sleep, okay?”

“Mm hm. Sure.”

Marco knew he could handle a bit of extra practice even without Ace helping him, even if that had been the whole plan in the first place. This wasn’t his first time doing an action movie, but these scenes were still important to nail when he decided to do most of his own stunts.

As Marco expected, Ace did not wake back up. He was still fast asleep, using his backpack as a pillow. Part of his chin was shiny from how he drooled.

“All right, buddy. Let’s go.” Marco shook his shoulder, but Ace continued to snooze.

“Nuh…” Ace groaned quietly. 

Marco chucked. He was sure that Ace would have complained about if he was awake to hear him. Marco checked the time on his phone. He could probably make it to his trailer without anyone seeing him. 

It was quite a task though since he ended up having to carry Ace and both of their backpacks, but he made it. There was a bed in his trailer that Ace could use. It was funny. When Marco laid him down, legs straight and his arms by his side, he looked like a sleeping princess— at least until he turned to his side and snored. 

Ace would be safe and comfortable here while Marco was at filming at least. Marco imagined that the studio floor wasn’t the best place to sleep, no matter how exhausted he was.

Shanks ended up asking about him though. “Hey, Marco. Have you seen, Ace? We need his help rearranging the set.”

“I actually asked him to do something for me.” The lie came to him naturally. Even if Ace was Shanks’s nephew. Marco wasn’t about to hurt Ace’s job by making him seem lazy. It was his fault that Ace was so tired after all. 

“Ah, really?” Marco hated his smug tone, and it was hard to miss the way the corners of his mouth twitched upwards. “You too have been getting along surprisingly well.”

“Your point?” Marco asked, though he didn’t bother to wait for an answer. “Anyways, I don’t know when he’ll be back, but I’ll text him.”

“Nah, I’ll just get someone else.”

This scene wasn’t one with too much action. It was an interrogation, so it was still a tense scene that required his utmost concentration. At least Ace wasn’t missing too much. He wouldn’t admit it, but Marco knew he liked watching stunts and fight scenes. 

Ace was just barely awake by the time Marco made it to the trailer. He decided to make some tea, and the whistle of the tea kettle was what jolted Ace awake for real.

“Huh?” He sat up straight up in the bed. “Wait where- fuck what time is it?”

“You overslept,” Marco stated. He poured some hot water into the two tea cups sitting on the table, one baby blue and one a coral red. The tea bags he picked out were special. They were ones that Fire Fist had sent him, made by his mother personally. He saved some just in case, and this just felt right. “Tea?”

“Wh— Marco how are you so calm?” Now that Ace was awake, he was full of nervous energy to pacing around the limited space they had in the trailer (even if it was more spacious than others). “I’m gonna get in trouble!”

Marco set the kettle down. “I covered for you.”

“I can’t believe I fucked this up already! Wait, what?” He stopped and spun around to face Marco, eyes wide. “Start with that next time instead of stating the obvious, jerk.”

“Yeah, I know. Calm down. It’s almost ready.” He picked out a couple of chai tea bags for both of them.

Ace sat across from him and looked away. “Uh, sorry about that. And thanks for covering for me.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Ace.” Marco checked the timer on his phone. There was still thirty seconds left. 

His lips turned downward. Was he pouting? “I was really looking forward to fighting you though.” 

Those words made Marco sweat. Ace really hadn’t been kidding about that ass kicking. “I swear, it’s fine, Ace. But uh, you know it’s not  _ real _ fighting, right?”

Ace still didn’t meet his gaze, cheeks flushed. “Y-yeah I know that, but it’s still cool you know.”

Marco’s timer went off, he set the tea bags down in the saucer and slid the coral red teacup over to him. “Enjoy.”

Ace took it and muttered a quick thanks, bringing the cup up to his lips. His eyes widened. “”No good?” Marco asked. Maybe he hadn’t let it steep enough. He took his own cup and sipped it himself, but it seemed fine to him. 

“No! No! It’s great!” Ace insisted. “It just tastes a lot like my mom’s.”

“You mom makes tea?” He’d have to introduce Ace to Fire Fist if he ever got the chance. They really had a lot in common. 

Ace nodded as he took another sip. “Mm hm. Best in the world. This is a close second.”

“Well, I’d love to try it someday then,” Marco said, though he personally believed that nothing could top this. The tea from Handsome’s had been close, but he didn’t feel like going back ever. He had this now, and things were working out just fine. “Ready to get back to work? I feel like you’ll like the next part we’re doing.”

“Really?” Ace sat up a little straighter, and there was a shine in his eyes. 

“Ready to see me break through a window?”

“Fuck yeah!”


	9. Chapter 9

“Another letter? Sabo asked. He pointed at the piece of paper in Ace’s hand. “Phoenix has been awfully fast recently.”

“Oh no. I’m still waiting on his. This is from Marco,” Ace said nonchalantly.

Sabo ended up spitting some coffee back into his mug (the one shaped like a top hat that Rouge had got him for graduation). “Marco? You mean Marco Newgate? The same Marco Newgate that you complained about?”

Ace shrugged. “I told you that he wasn’t as bad as I thought.”

“Yeah, but letters, Ace?” Sabo smirked. It was subtle, but he was his brother, and Ace knew. 

“Oi. What’s that supposed to mean?” He could have tipped Sabo’s stupid coffee mug into his stupid face. “Stop looking at me like that and just explain!”

“Oh nothing. Have fun at work, Ace.”

“Ass.”

Admittedly, Ace still didn’t really have a clue about what he was doing. At the moment (after his chat with Shanks and Whitebeard), he was really more like some sort of errand boy. Though, it didn’t actually bother him that much since he expected to do something like this. He was just basically doing manual labor, but he didn’t really feel qualified. People were always talking about different things in terms he didn’t always understand. 

At least he wasn’t alone in all this.

It was strange. Somehow it was  _ Marco _ — the one who he thought was going to make his new job hell. Marco was anything but that. It felt like he had already known Marco, so it was easy to fall into somewhat of a routine with him (maybe it was because he knew him as Marc before?). 

The letters definitely helped. 

**Dear Ace,**

**How did I get popular you ask? Well, I guess I’d say that I got lucky, but that’s not completely true. I owe a lot to my connections here, but I wanted to get parts on my own merit. Not because Pops said so.**

**The film I was a supporting actor in got nominated for an award. Suddenly people were paying attention to this young new actor and I was able to get some leads. I feel lucky, but I know it’s not all luck. Does that make sense?**

**What about you? How’d you get into the whole martial arts thing? I better not hear about too many injuries, though you seem like the kind of guy that can handle himself.**

**Sincerely,**

**Marco**

There was something comforting about the way Marco wrote. It felt so sincere. That day had been another step forward. Marco had handed the letter directly to him with a  “Good morning, Ace.” 

Seeing Marco work and act was like watching a completely different person— though that made sense. He was an actor after all. He took his work seriously, checking if he needed to film a scene again for the perfect take, practicing his lines from a heavily annotated script— he even knew everyone by name (Ace couldn’t say the same about Boa Hancock, but he tended to avoid her). 

Photography was a part of his work, and while he took it just as seriously as acting, it was still a chance to see the real him behind closed doors. 

“My character is also a photographer,” Marco explained as he worked on his laptop. 

“I thought your character was a spy.” Ace had watched very few movies before, so he was still trying to keep up with understanding things. 

“That’s right. Well he’s more of a spy than a photographer,” Marco said. “The spy gig is his secret life. Publicly, he’s a photographer.”

Ace nodded then pointed at the laptop screen. “What’s this about then?”

“I wanted to include my own photography as the character’s photography.” Ace could tell that it was a proud moment for Marco from the way he proudly showed Ace photos of landscapes from traveling during filming. “I don’t get many chances to show this.”

“I think that’s great, Marco,” Ace agreed. “Show me more?”

They scrolled through Marco’s repertoire of photography until lunch break was up. 

* * *

Right now, Marco was sitting in makeup, getting ready for a scene. Ace didn’t even know that guys wore makeup (though it’s not like he knew much anyways since it’s not as if he had watched many movies). It was cool though. He didn’t know what they used to make Marco look all bloody and bruised like that, but it was cool. Ace didn’t want to ever admit it to Marco’s face, but Marco was actually really cool, even if it was all acting.

“Lookin' good, Mar- Marco.” Ace stumbled over his words, almost falling too easily into a shorthand nickname. 

Marco grinned back at him through his black-eye makeup. “Here to watch again?” he asked. 

“Dunno. Are you doing anything cool today?” Filming didn’t interest Ace all that much. There was so much going on in the scene, and Ace just didn’t get what was happening.

**“You guys should make this whole thing easier to follow,” Ace had said to Marco one time. It had been the first time he ate lunch with Marco (mainly because he had a lot of questions). “Why is everyone talking about this USB anyways?”**

**“It’s the MacGuffin,” Marco had answered casually before biting into his burger (“What? I don’t just drink tea. I need to eat too”).**

**“Mug uffin? I thought it was a USB.” He’d never heard of that before, but he knew about USBs at least, but couldn’t they just buy one at the store?**

**“You have ketchup on your cheek, Ace.” Marco handed him a napkin. “Er** — **Basically, it’s a really important object for a plot.”**

**“Yeah, but why hasn’t anyone explained it yet?”**

**Marco pulled his script out (he had it with him at most times) and flipped to a page. To Ace it seemed random, but Marco made it seem effortless. “Well technically, someone has in the plot, but we haven’t filmed that scene yet.” He pointed to a few lines. Marco highlighted his own lines in electric blue.**

**“What?” Ace paused, processing that information as he squinted at the lines. It still didn’t make much sense to him, but he didn’t exactly have much of the context anyways. “But why not just film it in order then?”**

**“Well, there’s a lot of reasons actually,” Marco started, but Ace zoned out of the rest of the conversation. And it only seemed like seconds later when Marco snapped in front of his face saying, “Ace, we need to go!” and pulling him back towards the set.**

“Jumping off a building sound cool enough for you?” Now he had Ace’s attention. This was really the good stuff. It may have seemed simple to some of the others on the crew, but it was entertaining to him. 

“Sweet,” Ace grinned. He leaned against the dresser, but stood back up straight when Vista glared at him.

“You better not knock over anything, Ace,” he said, waving a brush at him.

They weren’t around makeup for much longer though. “Don’t die,” Ace teased as he watched the stunt team strap a safety harness onto Marco. He had gotten in the habit of saying it, even though he knew it wasn’t real.

_ “Usually actors have stunt doubles for this kind of thing,”  _ Marco had explained, gesturing to a woman with hair like Boa Hancock’s.  _ “I do my own stunts though, but even then, there’s safety measure in place.” _

_ “I think it’s cool you do your own stunts,”  _ Ace had said, pointing to Marco’s hair.  _ “I don’t think anyone else could pull that hair off anyways.” _

Marco shot him a thumbs up as the crew ushered him off to start the scene. 

Ace wasn’t able to get the best view from the ground, but he could tell that Marco was working hard. They had run the scene through a couple of times. He must have been sweating a lot after running across rooftops and barely making jumps across buildings only to take a final leap of faith.  He only got a short break in between each take as they set things back up. 

“Don’t your legs hurt at all?” Ace asked Marco as they were setting up for the final take. 

Marco just shrugged as he adjusted his harness. “I’ve done worse.”

Ace raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”

“I can show you if you want.”

There was a period of silence between them as they both blushed after processing Marco’s words. “Er— wait I didn’t mean it like that,” Marco continued, but before he could finish, they were whisked in different directions.

“Marco, you’re needed on set!”

“Come with me please, Ace!” Izo grabbed his arm. He shoved Ace into a golf cart.

“Hey, Izo! I was gonna watch!” Ace protested, but Izo already started driving back to the main building. “What was that about?”

“What? I need help carrying fabric,” Izo answered.

“And?” Ace was fully expecting more. He was quick to learn that Izo loved to gossip.

“What did Marco say to you?” If Izo didn’t have to look ahead, Ace was sure he would be looking straight at him.

“It wasn’t really anything much.”

“But you blushed.”

“Just because it was awkward,” Ace argued, but he couldn’t help thinking back to the first time he had blushed like that.

It was something simple: another Phoenix letter. One sent after Phoenix’s graduation. 

**Dear Fire Fist,**

**Sorry I couldn’t write more, but there’s a lot I need to get done right now. I just wanted to update you on things here. Don’t worry. I promise that I’ll write more next time. I’ve officially graduated now and I couldn’t imagine my last year of high school without your letters. I want you to know that you’ve helped me so much. I got to share one of my passions with you, and that means the world to me. Let’s keep going strong into the future.**

**Sincerely,**

**Phoenix**

The photo he attached was a picture of a heart-shaped flower petal held up to the sunset. It was Ace’s favorite picture, and yes, it made him blush.

“Just because it was awkward?” Izo prodded. “I doubt it.”

“It was nothing,” Ace insisted. He was sure he would say that until the end of time.

He didn’t see Marco until the end of the day, and Marco blushed as soon as he saw him. “Hey, about earlier—”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Ace interrupted. The last thing he needed was for Izo to have more gossip fodder. 

“I actually wanted to ask you something though,” Marco said. He shoved a hand into his pocket. “I know what I was saying earlier was pretty weird, but I was thinking, I could show you some movies if you want to come over to my place?”

Ace didn’t know what compelled him to do it, but he answered, “Sure! I’d love that.”


	10. Chapter 10

Marco wouldn’t say that he  _ didn’t _ find Ace cute, but he didn’t mean to ask him out. “No, it’s not a date,” he reassured himself. Yes, he had flirted with him a bit when he used to go to the café, but things were completely different now.

No matter what it was, he needed to clean. 

His apartment was a classy enough place that they even offered their own cleaning services. Marco never used them. He knew better than to trust a stranger with access to his apartment, especially when it was a known fact that he lived in this particular building. He had chosen this place because of the reliable security, though he would admit that the luxury was also appealing. The penthouse apartment was nice and quiet and it gave him plenty of space for guests (namely his siblings whenever they inevitably decided to stop by).

He stared at the space in front of him. He still had laundry resting on the couch, still wrinkled and roughly folded. His flower journal and letter box was still out from when he was reading Fire Fist’s letter from last night. Time had been tight lately, and he hadn’t yet been able to attach the newest flower Fire Fist sent (now store-bought since he didn’t have access to his mother’s garden). 

Marco picked the letter up and smiled.

**Dear Phoenix,**

**Sorry I haven’t written as much lately. To be honest, I’ve been antsy to write you another letter. Things have been so hectic lately trying to adjust. I don’t blame you for writing a short letter last time, by the way. A letter’s still a letter and I’m glad I could hear from you!**

**So, updates from me. I’m actually making friends at my job! One of them I thought was gonna be a real jerk, but he’s not as bad as I thought. He reminds me a lot of you actually. I’d love to introduce you guys whenever we have the chance to meet.**

**The job can be pretty tiring sometimes (that’s why I don’t always have the energy to write sorry). I was supposed to be doin something else at first, but now it’s mainly just manual labor. Thankfully, I’m good at that.**

**I’m not really sure if I’m gonna stay here permanently, but I’ll keep you posted.**

**Sincerely,**

**Fire Fist**

As much as this letter brightened his day, he needed to put his things on the shelf for now. They were private, and even though he was glad he could be friends with Ace now, this was something for his eyes only (and besides, Fire Fist probably wouldn’t appreciate it either, even if he never found out). 

Marco folded the letter up and slid it back into the envelope. He paused for a moment and remembered his sticky notes in the desk drawer of his apartment’s study. They helped him organize the letters by year. Having some filing tabs would be nice, though he hadn’t found ones that fit into that particular size box. “Hm, I should get another box,” he muttered to himself. He felt bad just keeping Ace’s letters in his desk drawer. Even though he clearly didn’t have as many letters from him than he did from Fire Fist, he felt like Ace deserved at least something simple.

He took the proper time to attach the pressed flowers (geraniums this time)  into his journal, then returned the book and letterbox to their place on the middle of the shelf of valuables: family photos, little trinkets he had gotten over the years. Of course, Fire Fists’s things were perfect on this shelf. They sat next to his polaroid camera (all kept there for easy access). 

The tables and counters were relatively clean, but it wouldn’t hurt to disinfect them. Sure, he was tired from filming, but somehow, he found the energy to clean. He really should have planned this better. Tomorrow would be ideal, but he was booked for a talk show appearance with his co-stars.

_ “Can’t you just take a skip?”  _ Ace had asked.

Marco sighed,  _ “Afraid not. Do you want to just  wait until next week then?” _

Ace shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets.  _ “Why not just tonight? Just one and done, and if it works out, then we can plan more later. I’ll swing by after I stop off at home.” _

_ “Sure, yoi. Sounds good to me.”  _ Though Marco had said that before thinking about the state of his apartment.

His phone, facedown on the kitchen table, vibrated, jolting him out of his thoughts.

**Ace [Sent 7:58pm]: hey, im here i think?**

“Shit, already?” He had taken less time than Marco had anticipated. Marco was glad that his apartment was never too messy.

**Ace [Sent 7:58pm]: is this the right place? i feel like im lost lol**

Ace attached a picture to the text: the lobby interior of Marco’s apartment building.

**Me [Sent 8:00pm]: Yeah that’s right. Give me a bit and I’ll come get you.**

Marco scrambled to get the cleaning supplies back into the closet with the spare sheets and towels. He probably still smelled like disinfectant (at least it was better than smelling like sweat). He wished that he had taken the time to shower first, but he still had to take the elevator down.

Ace seemed to be in a better state than he changing from a plain blue t-shirt into a yellow button down with a tank top underneath (Marco could clearly see his muscles, but he was trying not to stare). Ace grinned at him and waved as Marco approached him. “You seriously live here?” he asked when Marco walked up. “I thought this was an office building or something.”

“Nice to see you too,” Marco said dryly. “Sorry for the wait, by the way.”

But Ace accepted it pretty easily. “Nah, it’s fine. I know I went pretty fast anyways. I’m glad I didn’t actually get lost. I was just trying to get changed before my brother asked any questions about this. He’d never let me live it down.”

What an adventure that would have been: movie night replaced with Marco hunting for a lost Ace wandering around the giant city of Grandine. “You ready to go up then?” 

“Yep! I’m curious what—” Ace was cut off with the sound of a grumble and he blushed. “Haha. Sorry about that. I forgot to eat. You wouldn’t happen to have anything to eat, would you?”

Marco felt like hitting himself. He knew there was something else he forgot. Groceries had run out a few days ago and he had been living on takeout for dinner. “Maybe some snacks for the movie, but nothing for actual dinner. Haven’t had time to restock on groceries yet. There’s a great Alabastan restaurant nearby though if you want to eat there first.”

“Oh? Hell yeah. I haven’t tried Alabastan food yet.” Ace’s enthusiasm made Marco grin (and he tried not to laugh as Ace wiped drool away from the corner of his mouth). 

Though he ended up salivating again anyways when they slid into their booth at the restaurant. Marco didn’t blame him. The Spice Bean was full of delicious smells, and he was hungry as well.

“So how did the rest of filming go? Izo took me before I could see the rest,” Ace said. 

“Yeah I saw Izo pulling you away.” Marco had thought it strange, but things were hectic, so who knows where Ace was really needed. As much as he loved it when Ace watched stunts (his fascination with stunts was its own spectacle), keeping productivity up was important. “You just missed the final take of that scene actually. I nailed it as soon as you left.”

“Aw, damn it,” Ace groaned. “I must have some bad luck, huh?”

“Well, I guess you shouldn’t be on set next time.”

Ace stuck his tongue out at him and Marco laughed. It was the most pleasant dinner he had in awhile, even better than family dinner on Sunday (he wondered if maybe Ace would start coming to those too eventually). 

* * *

“What the fuck?” Ace gasped. Admittedly, Marco should have expected some swearing. “This is where you live? No wonder the building was so fancy.”

“I mainly live here because the security is good,” Marco said. He led Ace in to the kitchen and set their bag of leftovers on the counter. “That’s why I told you to wait downstairs for me. They wouldn’t have let you in, but hey now you have a visitor pass.” The precautions had been a hassle when Marco first moved into his apartment since he had to keep going back down to the lobby to pick any of his brothers up, but he was grateful for it whenever people tried to follow him in, demanding autographs or an exclusive interview. “Just make yourself at home. The bathroom is at the end of  the hall on the left if you need to use it.”

Ace nodded then plopped himself down onto the couch instead. “Comfy.” He closed his eyes in content, then moved his feet up, brushing the edge of the coffee table before putting them back down. “My bad. Force of habit.”

“No big. I can always clean it anyways.”

“I mean, it’s so clean, so I don’t want to ruin things,” Ace said. “Way better than my apartment.”

“I’m sure it’s not that bad,” Marco reassured. He sat next to Ace on the couch.

“Nope. It is.” He wasn’t expecting him to deny him outright, but Ace’s bluntness made him snort. “It’s really cramped since it’s the two of us in a one bedroom. You really wouldn’t want to see it.”

Marco stared at him. “Seriously?” He tried to imagine sharing such a small space with any of his siblings. Sure they had shared rooms when they were younger, but that was different from a permanent living space. “How is that working out for you?”

“Well, Sab gets the bedroom since I know he needs his own space to work sometimes,” Ace said. “I sleep on the pull out couch.” He tapped the armrest of the chair as if to emphasize his point.

No wonder Ace seemed tired all the time, Marco thought. There was no way that was very comfortable, especially if it was his regular sleeping arrangement.

Ace promptly steered the discussion away from his living situation before Marco could ask more. “So what are we watching?”

“It’s called Grade-A Killer. Let me go set it up.” 

The movie was about a group of college kids trying to solve a series of murders on their campus. The mystery plot was convoluted at times (Marco didn’t blame Ace for asking questions and pausing), but Marco remembered the role fondly. The director specifically wanted to cast college-age talent for realism, and Marco appreciated the chance to work with others his age.

And it got him more interested in performing his own stunts.

The particular scene was at the climax of the movie. Marco’s character, Jaks, was trying to lure the killer into a trap and decided to scale one of the classroom buildings with his bare hands. 

Instead of watching the screen as the scene unfolded, Marco chose to watch Ace’s reaction instead. Ace had paused in taking a bit of popcorn (which he decided to make halfway through the movie during a long exposition scene). 

The camera cut to closeups of Marco’s face: strained and sweaty, breathing hard after taking a risky leap to get a better handhold. Finally, he hoisted himself in through one of the open windows. His character lay, back to the floor, muttering to himself,  _ “Shit. Gotta get up.”  _ Marco remembered suppressing his pride in that moment, then grinning when the cameras cut and the crew cheered.

Ace reached for the remote and paused the movie, staring wide-eyed at Marco. “Holy shit. How did you do that?”

“Lots of strength training and rock wall climbing.” There was rock climbing place close to the studio. Marco still went there sometimes for fun (and sometimes, he ended up needing the refresher for another movie). “And safety equipment, of course,” he added.

“That’s really impressive,” Ace said, but then he shot Marco a smug grin seconds later. “Pretty soon you’ll be old though and you won’t be able to do stunts like that.”

“What are you talking about? I’m still in my twenties. I’m probably only a few years older than you.”

“What? No way.”

“Yes, way,” Marco insisted. “I took this role a few years ago when I was in college.”

“When you were in college?” Ace had raised his voice. Thankfully, Marco didn’t have to worry about noise complaints. Ace reached over and pinched him. 

Marco yelped. “What was that for?”

“You guys are going to run yourselves into the ground, I swear. Take care of yourselves!”

It was hard to miss the way Ace didn’t just refer to Marco specifically. ‘You guys’ and ‘yourselves’— plural. Before Marco knew what he was doing, the question came to his lips. “What do you mean, ‘you guys?’”

“Nothing.” Ace dismissed it quickly and unpaused the movie. “You just remind me of a friend.”

They finished the movie soon after (there had only been about twenty minutes left after that scene).

“So what did you think?” Marco asked as the credits started to roll.

“Pretty good. Title is cheesy as hell though.”

“Oh definitely,” Marco agreed. “That’s not really something I get a say in though.”

Ace pulled out his phone. “It’s pretty late. I should get going.” He stretched his arms over his head and yawned.

“You look pretty tired though,” Marco pointed out. “You sure you’re fit to take the train? You can stay the night if you’d like.”

“A little forward, aren’t ya?”

Marco blushed and started stuttering. “Huh? Wait— Whoa. No, I didn’t mean it like that!”

“I’m just teasing, Marco!” Ace burst into laughter, which calmed down after Marco elbowed his arm gently. “Seriously though. I don’t want to intrude.”

“I have a guest room, so it’s not much,” Marco argued. “If you need spare clothes I can lend some, and there’s a washer and dryer too if you want to clean yours. Besides,” he placed a hand on Ace’s shoulder, “I want you to be safe.”

Ace went quiet for a moment as he considered Marco’s offer.

“And it would do you some good to sleep in a real bed and not an awful pull out couch?”

“You know what? I’m on board with that.”


	11. Chapter 11

**** Ace groaned when he awoke to sounds of vibrations. “Who the fuck is calling me at this hour?” he grumbled to himself. He was tempted to ignore it and go back to sleep (Marco’s guest bed was seriously comfortable), but he reached over and unplugged his phone from the charger anyways.

His eyes widened when he saw the time. All his alarms had failed him and he was late for work. On top of all that, he had several missed calls (mainly from Sabo, one from Shanks) and some texts.

**_Best Worst Uncle [Sent 9:23]: hey, bud where are ya?_ **

He hadn’t texted anymore after that, but he did leave a voicemail.

**_“Hey, Ace. Feel free to ignore that text from earlier. I uh_ ** — **_saw the news and the outside of the studio might be pretty hectic. Just take the day off. Don’t sweat it.”_ **

Ace stared at his phone, trying to decipher the cryptic voicemail. What did he mean by that?

He decided to check Sabo’s messages next. There was a string of texts asking where he was before Sabo had started to call. Instead of listening to the voicemails, Ace called back instead.

**“Ace, where have you been?”** Sabo asked when he picked up.

“Gee, good morning to you too,” Ace said, lounging back on the pillows. “I stayed over at Marco’s. I fell asleep before you started texting.”

**“Yeah. I figured that out after I saw it on Twitter! Fucking Twitter, Ace!”**

Ace jolted out of his relaxed position, sitting straight up. “Wait. What do you mean?”

**“You didn’t see it yet?”** He had stopped yelling this time.  **“Oh no.”**

“Hang on. I’ll call back. Maybe.” Ace hung up then navigated over to Twitter.

It was hard not to notice right away. His notifications were lit up blue with mentions and people trying to message him. And under trending, it said:

**Celebrity • 2 hours ago**

**Marco Newgate spotted at the Spice Bean.**

The headline picture was of Ace and Marco sitting at a window booth at the restaurant as they chat and laughed over dinner. He hadn’t given much thought at all to where they sat last night except when they started playing I Spy with the restaurant decor and from what they could see outside. Looking at this picture, he groaned, realizing how they were advertising their friendly relationship like something else. It didn’t help that there was a second picture of them as they entered Marco’s apartment building.

_ Last night, a photograph of Marco Newgate surfaced on Twitter and on multiple fansites. The picture shows Newgate on a date with another man. Twitter users have determined that the man is the same man from the café incident, @firespadefist. _

Part of Ace’s brain was curious to see what people were saying, but he decided against it. He knew that even a glance would make his blood boil (especially if “faangirl88” was involved again).

Ace sighed and got out of bed. He spotted his clean clothes folded on top of the dresser along with a note sitting on top.

**Good morning, sleepyhead.** Ace stopped reading for a second to blush at the name. **I had to go to filming, but I can try to cover for you so you can sleep in. You looked so peaceful that I didn’t want to disturb you. I already saw the situation on Twitter, so there’s still probably press outside the front of the apartment. Call this number and Oars Jr. will escort you out the back so you can catch the train. Feel free to stay though if you don’t feel safe leaving. The leftovers are in the fridge if you’re hungry. You can have mine as well.**

**-Marco**

It would have been nice to stay, safe in the luxury of Marco’s nice as fuck apartment, but he really was antsy to return home and hide for the rest of his life.

“Shower,” he decided first. It would definitely help clear his head (though he was definitely going to eat as well). 

Even the shower was luxurious. The showerhead had multiple settings and there was even one overhead as well as jets on the wall. He stood out of the way before turning the shower on, nervous of getting blasted unexpectedly. The water was heavenly hot however, and Ace was glad that he didn’t have to wait a couple of minutes for the heat to kick in like at his own apartment.

The towels were soft and fluffy. Ace made sure to toss them in the laundry and leave a note for Marco too.  **I used the shower. Hope you don’t mind. Made sure to wash the towels though!**

He was thankful that Marco let him have his leftovers too. Food was always a welcome distraction. Waiting for leftovers in the microwave was not. He decided to wander around the room and look around (he wasn’t snooping!). Marco had a couple of shelves around the TV where he displayed different decorations like photographs of family. Ace had learned that a lot of the cast and crew members were actually part of Marco’s family just from how they talked about each other (and from what Marco told him of course). There was a crowded family photo on one of the top shelves. It looked like it was taken right outside of the studio.

Ace’s eyes were drawn to something else.

There were only a couple of things on one of the middle shelves: a pair of leather-bound journals, a polaroid camera, and a box. 

He already knew about Marco’s interest in photography. It was something he wrote Ace about, and Marco had shown him some of the photos he was editing for the movie. Ace still thought it was cool that they were featuring Marco’s actual photography in the movie. 

The box was what really caught his attention. 

“Whoa,” he whispered to himself as he traced his finger over it. There was a design on the side that looked as if it was handpainted: a creature that was electric blue, accented with vibrant yellow. It was absolutely whimsical. He couldn’t help but wonder what was inside. He touched the cover, but was snapped out of his curiosity by the microwave’s beeping. It was for the best, really. He shouldn’t violate Marco’s trust when he trusted him in his home alone.

Food should have been his priority anyways since his stomach felt awfully empty, but with a full stomach and a clear mind, Ace finally chose to go back home.

Oars Jr. was a giant of a man, but he was surprisingly kind as well, even offering Ace a ride home instead of having to take the train. Ace gladly accepted (he wasn’t confident that he had the energy to deal with public transportation right now).

As soon as he walked over the threshold, he made sure to text Sabo ( **got home safe. don’t worry. no one followed** ). He then proceeded to collapse onto the couch. Even though he hadn’t done anything today, he already wanted to go back to sleep. “Damn it,” he said quietly, cursing the lumpy couch. One night spent at Marco’s and he was already spoiled.

His phone rang again, and this time, he made sure to pick up. 

“Sabo. I already texted you!”

**“Ace, it’s me, yoi.”**

“Marco?” Ace exclaimed. He craned his head to look at the time on the microwave. It was still around time for lunch break.

**“How are you holding up?”** Marco asked from the other end.  **“I’m sorry I wasn’t there this morning.”**

“It’s fine,” Ace said in understanding. He set his phone on speaker and set it on the coffee table. “They can’t exactly film the movie without its superstar, can they?”

Ace held in a laugh when Marco groaned.  **“Har har. Anyways, how are you holding up?”**

“I made it back to my place safe and sound,” he replied. “I may never leave again.”

**“Hey. I’m supposed to be the dramatic one.”**

“Let me have a turn.”

They shared a laugh together before the topic turned serious again.  **“I want to apologize about last night. I didn’t mean for that to happen,”** Marco said. He was quiet.  **“Just thought we could have a nice, normal night, you know?”**

It was hard to hear Marco like that. He always seemed so put together. “It was a nice night, Marco. You don’t have to apologize. Besides, how were you supposed to know that someone would take a picture of us?”

**“But I should have known,”** he insisted.  **“Why do you think I used to wear that disguise around?”**

Ace snorted and crossed his arms. “You mean that pathetic hat and those sunglasses? Trust me. It was more conspicuous than you thought.”

**“It helped though!”**

The fact that they could still have this banter even though both of their asses were on the line brought a smile to Ace’s lips.

**“I’ll try to fix it though, I promise,”** Marco continued.

“How so?”

**“You know how I’m supposed to make a talk show appearance later today? Just tune in to that.”**

“Uh, sure, but can you—”

**“Shoot. Sorry, Ace. Gotta go. I’ll see you soon.”**

Before Ace could ask for a better explanation, Marco hung up. He sighed. He understood, he really did, but would it have hurt to not be cryptic about it?

In the meantime, Ace decided to busy himself with sorting some things around the apartment. Sabo was usually the one who prioritized organization, but seeing Marco’s tidy apartment was a good motivator and inspiration. Besides, he didn’t have much else to do in the meantime.

Ace had his own space in the corner of the living room where he had a small desk to put his laptop and his letters. He frowned seeing the small stack of papers atop his letterbox. The box was specifically for Phoenix’s letters, so he hadn’t really been storing Marco’s. Maybe he should get another box.

After that, he borrowed some tape from Sabo’s desk (he’d understand and it wasn’t as if he was going to use the whole roll). He had photographs to hang up. They didn’t have frames and they weren’t allowed to put holes in the walls anyways. Still, it was nice to have decorations up. He mainly used the polaroids Phoenix sent him along with a few family photos they had.

Ace still had time to kill before Marco’s talk show appearance, so he glanced at Netflix. He just used Sabo’s account. He didn’t watch enough stuff on his own to justify purchasing his own subscription (and they saved money this way too). He saw some titles with Marco in the cast listing, but skipped those for now. They could watch those together next movie night, which would hopefully go better than this one. He ended up hitting play on some random crime drama, but he didn’t care to pay much attention to it.

Eventually, the door opened. Sabo walked through, carrying three boxes of pizza and breadsticks. Before even greeting Ace, he looked at the walls. “Wow. You decorated, I guess?”

Ace scowled. “What do you mean by that?”

“Just looks messy without frames.” He shrugged. “That’s all.”

“You buy a damn frame then.”

“I bought the pizza, so no.”

Ace sat up at the mention of food, and immediately tried to grab the box of breadsticks off the top. Sabo moved it out of his reach.

“I don’t think so,” he said. “You better explain what happened last night first.”

“Fine,” Ace grumbled. His stomach roared for pizza and breadsticks.

They sat across from each other at the kitchen table, the pizza boxes taunting and tempting him. “Marco didn’t have anything to eat, so we decided to just go get something.” His explanation was simple, but it was the truth.

“Really?” Sabo sounded doubtful. “You know you could have ordered takeout and avoided the Twitter rumors.”

“Ugh. I was hungry, okay?”

“Alright, Why didn’t you come home last night then?” he continued. He opened the first box of pizza and grabbed a slice. Ace nabbed one too before he could close it again and Sabo rolled his eyes.

“It was late and Marco said he’d be worried if I took the train.” 

Sabo snorted and started speaking through a mouthful of cheesy, meaty goodness. “You wouldn’t be in any danger.”

“Sure,” Ace agreed. He grabbed a breadstick. “But Marco has a damn comfortable bed and hell yeah I’m gonna take advantage of that.”

“What?!” Sabo started choking on his pizza before grabbing his nearby glass of water. “You slept in his bed?”

“Wha—” Ace’s cheeks turned red when he realized his wording. “No! No, I meant his guest bed!”

“Too late! You said it!”

“Damn it, Sabo!”

His phone vibrated in his pocket. It was another call from Marco. Ace didn't bother to start with pleasantries this time.   
  
"Are you going to explain what that was about earlier, Marco?" he demanded.   
  
**"Sorry about that, yoi. I barely had time to make that call. I should have waited until I had more time."**

“Yeah, I understand,” Ace said. “Just don’t do that again. You scared me.” Sabo smirked at him and he flipped him off.

**“I won’t. I promise. So, I’m about to be on in a few if you want to watch.”**

“Sure, I’ll watch. This better be good.”

**“It will be fine, Ace,”** Marco said. There was some muffled shouting in the background.  **“Alright. Gotta go. Talk to you later?”**

“Yep! I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Ace hung up the phone and grabbed a box of pizza to bring to the couch. “You’re smiling,” Sabo said, following him with his own box.

“Am not. Shuddap.”

Marco texted him the name of the show earlier, and Sabo switched the channel to it. They changed it just in time. 

**“And now introducing our next guest, Marco Newgate!”**

**Marco walked out, waving to the crowd. He was well dressed, yet casual in a striped button-up shirt and black jeans.**

**“Thanks for having me here, yoi.”**

The beginning was mostly a boring Q&A about the progress of the movie so far, but Ace’s heart was beating nervously in his chest. What was Marco going to do?

He found himself waiting longer as they started discussing movie concepts.

**“You’ve said in interviews before that representation is pretty important for you.”**

**“That’s right,” Marco said. He took a sip from the water bottle on the side table.**

**“How do you feel that’s carried out in your upcoming movie as you film it?”**

**“Well, as some of you may know, my character, Jericho Solis, is bisexual,” he explained. “This wasn’t too present in the original movies, but I feel that we’ll carry it out well.”**

**“Oh? Tell us more.”**

**“Well, I can’t give too much away.” Marco smiled and laughed lightly. “You’ll have to watch the movie when it comes out, which will be awhile unfortunately, but we’re working hard.”**

**“Speaking of representation though, Marco,” the host said, leaning forward, “we weren’t going to ask about this originally, but we just have to know.”**

A graphic appeared on the screen that showed the pictures from last night. Ace sunk down into the couch. Maybe the lumpy pull out would swallow him whole and save him from the embarrassment (even if he was only with Sabo right now). 

**“Everyone** — **and I** **_mean_ ** **everyone** — **wants to know what’s happening here. I heard that this is the same boy from the café incident. Did that happen to spark something between you two by any chance?”**

Ace glared at the screen. “I ain’t a damn kid.”

**“Oh no, nothing like that,” Marco said waving it off. “Ace actually started working at the studio after he quit.”**

**“So his name is Ace?”** The host was very nosy in Ace’s opinion.  **“What an interesting name.”**

**“I think it’s nice,” Marco commented before getting back on topic. “Anyways, it’s a long story, but we’re just friends.”**

**“Aw, is that so?” The host sounded somewhat disappointed, but the cheerful persona returned soon after. “Well, guys and gals, you heard it here first, folks! Marco Newgate’s romantic life is still a mystery to us all. Alright! It’s time for a commercial break, but when we get back, we’ll be joined by our mystery guest! Stay tuned for that.”**

Ace stared at the screen blankly. “Really that’s it?” he said. He sighed in relief. “Huh. That wasn’t that bad.”

“He really saved your ass this time,” Sabo commented.

“Shut up, Sab.”

* * *

Thanks to that, Ace was sure that he could return to working normally, but just when he was about to bring Marco some lunch, Thatch started to talk to him at craft services.

“So, bud. What was all that stuff on the weekend about?” he asked. 

Ace tried to brush it off as he grabbed a couple of sandwiches. “You saw the interview right? It was nothing.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Can we save this for later? I want to have lunch.”

“With Marco?”

Ace didn’t respond, but he knew that Thatch was right.

“Look,” Thatch said, patting Ace’s shoulder. “I know you guys say you’re just friends and all, and that’s great, but as someone who has to see you guys interact almost daily, it’s a little tiring to watch you guys.”

“I don’t flirt with Marco,” Ace said. Besides, he still had feelings for Phoenix… right?

“Hm. Alright.” Thatch backed off, but Ace knew that tone. “Just… I think you guys should talk about it.” 

Finally, Ace was able to make his way over to Marco’s trailer. He balanced lunch carefully in his left arm and knocked. 

“Hey,” Marco said when he answered. “I wondered where you were.”

“Sorry about that,” Ace said. He stepped into the trailer. Marco grabbed some of the food out of his arms to help him. “Thatch wanted to talk about something.”

“Really? Izo was actually just here as well.” 

Neither of them mentioned what Thatch and Izo wanted to talk about, but Ace had a feeling that it wasn’t a coincidence.

“Shall we eat then?” 

“Yep! I’m starving.”

Back to normal, but not quite. Ace just couldn’t just get it out of his mind.

* * *

They set up another movie night that next weekend, much better planned that time. Marco bought groceries, planning to cook dinner so they didn’t have to go through the hassle of another PR nightmare.

“What do you want to eat tomorrow?” Marco asked. “So I can buy ingredients.”

“Hm…” Ace tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Spaghetti maybe?”

“Sounds good,” Marco agreed. “I actually know Thatch’s sauce recipe, so you’re in for a pleasant surprise. I can’t make pasta from scratch like he can though.”

“That’s fine. Sabo and I just eat the boxed stuff anyways.”

Marco was soon whisked off to wardrobe, but Thatch was closeby. “Definitely a date,” he commented.

“Is not.”

He was allowed into the building on his own this time since he was granted a visitor’s pass. It was such a convenient time saver (he was still amazed how Marco had an elevator that went right to his home). 

Marco greeted him at the entrance, even though he looked as if he was in the middle of cooking: slightly stained apron and forehead shiny from sweat. “Hey, Ace. I’m just finishing up, so we can eat soon then get started.”

Ace stepped in. There were so many delicious smells wafting through the air. “Mm. Garlic bread too?”

“Just something simple,” Marco said. He picked up some tongs, transferring hot bread onto a plate. “A baguette with some garlic bread does wonders.”

Impatient, Ace tried to grab a piece, almost dropping it from the heat.

“Careful,” Marco warned. The corners of his lips twitched upwards. 

“Hey!” Ace protested. He nudged at Marco with his elbow. “Don’t laugh.”

Marco broke in to full on laughter, one which they shared. Suddenly, Ace felt his stomach flutter. He faltered. “Ah— so let’s eat then!”

The food was delicious. The sauce made his mouth water as soon as he smelled it, and one taste left him craving for more. The garlic bread was perfect too: crunchy crust, but soft on the inside. 

He didn’t think about it long. The words kept coming back into his mind:  _ “Definitely a date.” _

His thoughts persisted through the start of the movie. It was a post-apocalyptic novel adaptation, but Ace wasn’t quite paying attention, even though Marco was explaining some of his experience with a smile on his face.

Such a nice smile.

“Hey, Marco? Can I ask you something?” The words came to his lips before he could think about them. 

“Sure thing. What’s up?” The movie continued to play.

“Is this… a date?” He wasn’t even sure if he said it, but it was all too real from the way Marco stared at him. “Er— sorry. That was probably out of line.”

“No. It’s fine,” Marco insisted. He grabbed the remote and paused the movie, turning towards Ace. “Do you want it to be?”

Ace was silent for a moment. He could only answer with a small shrug of the shoulders and a quiet “I dunno.” 

“It’s not if you don’t want it to be.” Marco moved his hand closer to Ace. Ace tensed up, but it only lead to a friendly pat on the shoulder. “I’ll admit that I do find you attractive Ace, but we do have a professional relationship to keep in mind.” Through it all, he kept that wonderful smile that made Ace’s stomach flutter again. “Besides, Ace, you’re my friend. And I wouldn’t force you into something you’re not comfortable with no matter how I feel.”

It was hard not to take pause on those words. Marco was an actor— it was his job to lie, and yet now, he was being undoubtedly truthful. “Wow,” he said. He felt stupid for saying it. “That was… that was pretty brave.”

“I hope this doesn’t change things, Ace,” Marco continued. “Should we continue with the movie?”

“Mm hm.” Ace nodded, but his mind was still stewing.

Did Ace feel the same way back? There was something about Marco that did make him happy. He always made the perfect cup of tea (though less perfect than his mom’s), he was actually pretty cool when filming, but he was kind and still had a sense of humor. But to him, Marco was a friend. Ace didn’t want to lose that. 

And yet…

There were times he reminded him of Phoenix: his interest in photography, his concern for Ace, his sincerity in his letters. How was he supposed to consider Marco’s feelings when he was thinking about Phoenix half the time?

Even through their friendship, Marco wasn’t afraid to say something— to take that chance.

Maybe Ace needed to take his own chances.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features art by majoraop (tumblr)/ majorasmasks (deviantart)!

Marco liked to think that he was a calm and collected guy. It was his job in a way, keeping one face on when he felt another way. He felt that he handled that situation well, but on the inside he felt like screaming.

Thankfully, he kept it together for the rest of movie night, and Ace wasn’t staying over this time. As soon as Ace made it down in the elevator (both saying friendly goodbyes), Marco started to pace around his apartment letting out frustrated half-screams.

“Damn you, Izo!”

It had been his brother who planted those thoughts in his head a couple of days ago right after the incident.

**“You guys need to talk,”** **was the first thing he had said to Marco at lunch.**

**“I don’t know what you’re talking about,”** **Marco had answered. He closed his laptop because clearly he wasn’t going to be getting any work done with Izo here.** ** _‘Here for a fitting, my ass.’_**

**“Are you kidding me? Just friends?” Izo threw his hands into the air. “I don’t believe it for a second.”**

**“Even if you are right, so what?”**

**“Why don’t you two say something about your feelings?”**

**Marco sighed. This conversation was already tiring. “It’s complicated, Izo.” Sure, he thought Ace was cute even back when he was a barista, but there were too many variables to consider. They worked together, and it’s not as if Ace felt the same about him.**

**He partially blamed the letters. It was something so familiar to him, and it lead into a real friendship with Ace, but it was also like he knew Ace for years. They could banter just like best friends, Ace was funny and curious, his eyes shined when he was excited (despite his initial reluctance to working here), and he always knew the right thing to say to Marco.**

**How could he not like someone like that?**

**“You’ll never know until you try.”**

And so he did try, though he wasn’t expecting Ace to be the one to bring it up. Maybe he did feel the same way. “Damn it! Pull yourself together!” He wasn’t some high schooler worrying about a crush!

Ace hadn’t really talked about it much after they had resumed the movie, and to some that would be a relief. Marco wasn’t going to force Ace to say something or return his affections if he wasn’t comfortable, but now, it’s as if sirens were going off in his mind. What was Ace thinking? Did Marco make him uncomfortable?  

He _liked_ Ace. He would admit that, but knew he would be fine staying friends. He liked Ace’s company, and being upset about feelings didn’t have to ruin that.

But did he ruin their friendship completely?

Marco couldn’t stop thinking about it, lying awake in his bed. He decided that a cup of tea would do the trick to help him get to bed.

It ended up working at least, but it didn’t rob him of his anxiety when he awoke. He picked his phone up to check for messages, but Ace hadn’t sent anything. He was going see him at the studio later, but the silence was still worrying.

“It’s fine, Marco,” he reassured himself. “I’ll just apologize to him over lunch.”

It wasn’t hard to focus on acting. He had had to push through difficult times and intrusive thoughts before. He just had to take that energy and put it into the scene, which was definitely important today. They were covering an important dramatic scene today: a hostage situation.

Marco tried to make sense of his emotions with it. His character would obviously feel anxious in this situation, but he was the kind of man who had a plan for these things. He would get through this, and things would be fine.

He had this.

At least he thought he did. He kept glancing at the clock during lunch, but Ace hadn’t shown up for lunch yet. The anxiety returned.

“Hey, Haruta, have you seen Ace around?”

Haruta looked up from his clipboard. Though Ace didn’t usually work with the stunt crew, he started talking to Haruta more after showing interest in it. Marco wasn’t expecting Haruta to grin. “Oh? Why?”

Marco groaned. He was starting to regret asking. “Are you in on this too?”

“Oh we all are. Well, most of us anyways.” He wiggled his eyebrows, a smug look that made Marco hate his life even more right now. “Last I saw he was sitting down near craft services.”

“Thanks.”

“Good luck.”

Marco ignored that comment. Usually he waited for Ace, but he needed to take initiative like he did last night no matter the outcome.

Like Haruta said, Ace was near craft services, but he was alone right now, sitting on a couch. He was strangely quiet, looking over a piece of paper. Was this where he had been when Marco was waiting?

Marco was about to speak up, but he hesitated. Ace was clearly preoccupied with something. He probably just needed some space. Marco didn’t blame him. What he said last night was pretty heavy.

_You ruined it, Marco._

“A-Ace?”

Ace looked up, startled. He pressed the paper to his chest. “Uh— hey, Marco!” He rubbed the back of his head. “Oh right, sorry I didn’t show up for lunch.”

“No, it’s fine.” Marco waved it off, moving to lean against the wall. Right now, his ribcage felt like a trampoline park, his heart an unwilling patron. He wasn’t supposed to be nervous about things. Then again, he’d never really dealt with feelings like this before. He’d really only been in short one-off relationships (and he absolutely avoided any relationships that were for publicity),

Ace hadn’t said anything else. He had decided to look back at his paper, whatever it was. Marco took a deep breath. “Ace, I want to apologize.”

“Hm?”

“I should have realized that I made you uncomfortable last night,” he said. “I understand if you need space.”

He had been avoiding eye contact, so he hadn’t realized that Ace stood up, right in his face. “I think that’s sweet, Marco,” Ace said. It was as if the discomfort had disappeared. Ace was smiling.

Marco really hoped that his cheeks weren’t red. “What?”

Ace pat his shoulder. “Marco, it’s fine. You didn’t make me uncomfortable, I promise.”

“Really?” Marco asked.

Ace nodded. “I mean, I feel a little awkward about it, but I’ll live. You know, I actually thought it was brave of you to tell me.”

“Really?” he repeated, a bit louder this time. He felt silly that he couldn’t say much.

“I’m just sorry I can’t give you an answer,” Ace said.

“I won’t force you to answer, Ace.You don’t have to apologize,” he insisted.

“If you say so.” Ace returned to his seat on the couch. Marco thought about taking the seat next to him, but Ace stretched his legs out across the empty space. It wasn’t an outright denial, but it was subtle. “Is it alright if I have some more time to myself?” he asked. “There’s just something I need to take care of.

“Of course. Take as much time as you need.” It felt natural to reach out and ruffle Ace’s hair lightly. He was surprised that Ace didn’t lean away.

Needless to say, lunch was lonely for the next few days.

Ace wasn’t on set much either, at least, not in a place where Marco could see him. Marco was hoping for something to break up the monotony. Preferably a letter from Fire Fist. They had both been rather busy as of late, so their exchanges had slowed.

He checked his personal PO Box closer to the end of the week (any fan-mail was sent to an alternate one to preserve his privacy). His heart soared when he saw what was inside: the very letter he was waiting for.

Marco put it in his bag with his laptop, deciding to save it to read it over his lunch break.

But there was no way he could have expected the contents:

**Dear Phoenix,**

**I know it’s been awhile, but there’s something that I need to say to you, Phoenix. Something happened to me last week, and a close (I guess?) friend of mine inspired me to do this. After all this time, I knew I finally needed to say something.**

**Phoenix, I think that I love you.**

Immediately, Marco froze. His brain short circuited as he attempted to process the words in Fire Fist’s letter— the letter he had been waiting so eagerly for.

“What? He what?!” Marco couldn’t help speaking out loud.

He set the letter down on the table in his trailer and started pacing around. What were the chances? He came clean about his feelings towards Ace, and within the same week, Fire Fist— _of all people_ — confessed his own feelings? And not just feelings— he specifically said _love._ Some god of romance must have been out to get him.

His relationship with Fire Fist was something that was undoubtedly precious to Marco. Sure, his brothers were his close friends, but his friendship with Fire Fist was something special. He always gave Marco a new perspective to things, and he loved receiving little gifts from him.

But he never really thought of their relationship like that. Is this how Ace felt right now?

He had to force himself to sit back down and continue (after distracting himself by putting a kettle for tea on). Even then, he wasn’t sure how well he would be able to take whatever else Fire Fist had to say.

**I know. It’s a really heavy thing to say, but I mean it. I know I shouldn’t expect you to respond or even return my feelings, but I know I needed to say it. And I also don’t know if you’ll be ready for this, but I want to meet you.**

The hits just kept coming. Marco set the letter back down, bringing his hands up to his forehead in distress. It was something they had talked about before. Because they started out in the program, they knew that the other wasn’t some weird creep, and now they were living in the same city, it was an opportune time to actually meet. But now, it felt all too sudden.

**This Saturday, I will be waiting at 8PM on the lake patio of Starsea Park. I’ll be there for an hour. You don’t have to come, but I want to do this. I hope you can make it.**

**I hope that this hasn’t ruined things between us. No matter how you feel back, I don’t want to lose you.**

**Sincerely,**

**Fire Fist**

Marco turned the envelope over. There were some dried flower petals within: rose petals. Of course it had to be a rose. Fire Fist had never sent him a rose before.

This Saturday at 8PM. That would overlap with the next movie night with Ace— not that those plans were going to happen now, Should he go then? It’s not that he didn’t want to meet Fire Fist, but after that confession, he wasn’t sure how things would go. What was he supposed to do? Let him down easy?

Ruin another friendship?

Someone knocked on his trailer door, snapping him out of his dilemma. “Just a second!” he called, hiding the letter under his laptop. When he pulled the door open, he wasn’t expecting who was behind it. “Ace?” He wasn’t sure if he could handle this right now.

Ace laughed. “Yep. That’s me. You feeling alright, Marco?” It was strange, as if the past few days hadn’t happened. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah. Of course.” Marco moved aside, silently grateful he had put his letter somewhere hidden as Ace stepped inside. “You’re… surprisingly energetic,” he commented. “Did you take care of that thing?”

Ace plopped himself down on the couch. “Kinda?” he said. “It’ll be sorted out by the end of the week hopefully. I just have a lot of energy right now. Took care of step one. Now I just gotta wait.”

It was hard not to be curious about what Ace meant, but it didn’t feel right to ask. Whatever it was had really been keeping Ace down. “I wish you good luck with that.” End of the week. Marco had his own things to worry about then. “Are you sure you don’t need more time to yourself?”

“Hm?” Ace stared at Marco questioningly. “Nah. I was actually feeling kinda lonely. Not that everyone else isn’t good company. They can get kinda exhausting when they ask so many questions.”

Marco held in a groan as he sat next to Ace. Of course his siblings were as nosey as ever.

“Are you okay though, Marco?” Ace asked. He scratched the back of his head. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come. You probably need some space too.”

“No, no! I’m fine,” Marco insisted because like Ace, he had been a bit lonely. Not that he didn’t need space, but for other reasons now. “I’m glad to see that we can still be friends.”

“Yeah. I know it hasn’t been long, but you’re a really good friend, Marco.” Ace grinned. His expression shifted into a frown. “Ah shit. I forgot to grab lunch.”

“You should probably take care of that then.” Marco nudged him with his elbow. “We both know how you get when you’re hungry.”

“Oi, I’m not that bad,” Ace muttered. “Alright. I’m going. You wanna come with?”

“No thanks. I already ate. Besides,” Marco said, gesturing towards his laptop, “I’m working on something.”

“More photos. Right.” Ace stood back up. “Alright. See you later?”

“Yeah. See you later.”

Just before he was about to exit Marco’s trailer, Ace paused, turning back. “By the way, Marco. I, uh, won’t be able to do movie night this Saturday. I sorta have plans.”

“Really?” What a coincidence. That narrowed things down then.

“Is that alright?”

“It’s perfectly fine. I… I actually had plans of my own.”

* * *

Marco kept the letter with him at all times throughout the remaining days leading up to Saturday. He had been thinking back and forth on it as much as he could, even writing up a list of possibilities, yet no matter what he wrote, the first thing still stood out to him:

_Not show up then make Fire Fist extremely upset and never want to speak to you again, effectively ruining the most intimate friendship you’ve ever had._

“Ha ha.” He chuckled hollowly. He reread the letter yet again. “No pressure, Marco.”

“What are you muttering to yourself about?”

Marco folded the letter and slid it back into his pocket. “Don’t think I didn’t see that,” Izo said, crossing his arms.

“Is it any if your business?” Marco shot back.

“I’m just curious about something.” Izo continued as if Marco haven't even brushed him off. “Where’s Ace?”

“I don’t know,” he lied. It was more of a half lie, really. Ace had already gone home for the day to prepare for whatever plans he had.

“I think you’re just playing dumb.”

“Why would I be playing dumb?”

It irritated him to no end when another voice joined the conversation, an arm slinging around his shoulder. “Well, it’s supposed to be your date night isn’t it?” Thatch asked. Marco didn’t even have to look to know how smug he looked.

“Again,” Marco sighed, pushing Thatch’s arm away. It was hard to play nice when they continually pestered him about his situation— not that he told them that he confessed to Ace. Marco didn’t feel like they deserved an answer, especially when Marco’s own thoughts were so jumbled right now. “It’s not a date night.”

“Denial isn’t healthy on you, dear brother.”

This conversation was pretty much identical to the one a few weeks ago, and Marco was absolutely tired of it. “I’m going to go.”

He suddenly felt a slight pressure near his hip. “I got it!” he heard Haruta shout, which immediately sent Marco into a panic.

“Hey! Give that back!”

It wasn’t the first time that his brothers had stolen one of Fire Fist’s letters from him, though he thought he had gotten past that. He should have known better than to read it out in the open. He tried to grab it back, but even as fit as he was, Haruta was too fast.

“Haruta! Give it back!” Marco’s face went red. He knew that the other crew members who were still around were staring at them.

“So? What does it say?” Izo asked, leaning over Haruta’s shoulder to read the contents.

Both of them were quiet for a few moments as Thatch approached too. His eyes widened as he read. “Oh?”

“God, Marco. We didn’t know it was so...” Haruta trailed off, refusing to make eye contact.

“What? Private? Of course you didn’t.” Marco snatched it out of Haruta’s hands. “As you can see, I am preoccupied tonight.” This situation was not ideal, but there was nothing that he could do about it now. It was hard to see his brothers down from guilt, but part of him felt like they deserved it.

“So you’re really going to go then?” Izo asked.

“Yeah,” Marco answered. “Do you have a problem with that?”

“Hm.” Izo pointed at him. “I know you’re just going to wear that sorry excuse of a disguise again. Please wear something acceptable at least.”

Haruta and Thatch sniggered at that remark. Marco rolled his eyes. “What do you expect me to do?”

“Well, you can leave that to me.”

* * *

And so, the three of them insisted on coming with him to prepare, not matter how much Marco insisted that he did not need the help.

Thatch immediately stepped into the kitchen when they arrived at his apartment. “I’ll prepare some food for you guys. The park will make for a nice picnic.”

“Guys, don’t get the wrong idea. Besides, he’ll probably eat before anyways.”

Thatch shrugged. “Well, you never know. I’ll make it simple. Promise. Egg salad sandwiches sound good?”

Izo answered for him before Marco could react. “That’s fine. Now come along, Marco. You need my expert eye.”

He started to drag Marco towards his bedroom. Marco looked at Haruta. “Hang on. Why did you want to come then?”

“I’m here for moral support!”

Marco couldn’t believe that he agreed to this. He dreaded the process, imagining that Izo was about to make him try on every single nice piece of clothing that he owned. He was only halfway right about the timing since Izo was mainly busy digging through his closet, occasionally tossing clothes onto the bed..

“Don’t glare at me like that,” he said. “I’ll clean it up.”

“Yes, but do you have to throw them in piles like that?”

“I’m just considering the options. You’ll be surprised what a nice pair of jeans and a good jacket does.” He waved his hand at the pile that had landed on the floor. “That’s stuff that needs to go.”

“I’ll consider it.”

Izo was vigilant about layering, finally deciding on black skinny jeans and a white button-up with black buttons. A tan blazer tied the look together, and Marco made sure to tuck the letter into his blazer pocket just in case. “Nice!” Haruta commented enthusiastically when he walked out.

Izo smiled. “I do my best,” he bragged.

Thatch handed him a plastic bag. “Here you go, bud.”

Marco scoffed. “What? You guys didn’t prepare a picnic basket as well?”

“Hey. I did my best.”

He found himself pushed into the elevator with any pats on the back. “Good luck, Marco!”

“Not a confession!” he reminded. “We’re just friends!”

Though no matter what, he was still nervous as he rode along on the subway. He had been waiting so long to meet Fire Fist, but he didn’t think that their first meeting would be something like this. He tried to distract himself by glancing into the plastic bag. Thatch had made a lot of sandwiches, and even included a couple of sodas too (which he had bought for Ace).

Marco started to hear whispers. “Oh my god. Is that Marco Newgate?” He looked up. There were some girls sitting across from him and he decided to wave. Maybe he really should have worn his “disguise” after all. They asked for a picture (which he was used to) and Marco hoped that they wouldn’t follow him. Thankfully, they got off a few stops later.

The park really was one of his favorite spots in the city. Things were busy, so he didn’t get to come very often, but it was still beautiful. The lighting was kept dim near the lake, so that it reflected the starlight, though there were still strings of lanterns for visibility. It was a beautiful place to photograph.

Marco checked his watch. 7:50. He still had some time. Maybe he would be able to find a seat at the patio.

The patio was a nice place to relax. It overlooked the lake for a prefect view, and there were even some stands nearby to grab some food (though Marco already had his own). Thankfully, he was able to find a small empty table for two, which would be perfect for his meeting. He couldn’t help wondering if Fire Fist already found a table. Maybe he was already here?

Marco brought a hand to his forehead. It had only just now occurred to him: how was he going to know who Fire Fist was? A lot of people came to Starsea Park at this time and it didn’t help that it was a Saturday.  

He had the thought to check the letter again. Maybe Fire Fist left in a detail that he missed. He was about to reach into his pocket to grab it when he heard a familiar voice— one that he didn’t expect to hear that night.

“Marco? Is that you?”

Marco almost fell out of his chair trying to turn around when he heard that voice. And sure enough, Ace was standing right near his table. That romance god was just having a grand old time. “Ace? What are you doing here?”

“I’m meeting someone,” Ace answered. He slid into the available seat. Marco didn’t have the heart to tell him no. “How about you?”

“Actually the same.” Marco gestured towards the chair Ace was sitting in. “I’m meeting someone as well.”

“Oh shoot. Sorry.” Ace braced against the edge of the table. “I can get up if you want.”

“It’s fine for now,” Marco said, though it would undoubtedly be awkward trying to explain who Ace was to Fire Fist, especially with the whole “feelings” issue. Well, they were pretty similar actually. Best case scenario: they would get along and maybe even also become friends.

“Thanks, Marco. I’m glad I won’t have to wait alone.” Ace beamed and Marco felt his heartbeat speed up ever so slightly. “So what’s in the bag?”

“Dinner I guess.” Marco opened the bag to show Ace the wrapped sandwiches and sodas inside. “Thatch insisted that I take some food.”

“Lucky. I forgot to eat.”

“Do you want some then?” he offered. There was plenty (Marco knew he was going to have to buy a new loaf of bread), so hopefully Fire Fist didn’t mind. Marco could always grab something extra from the nearby stands anyways.

“Don’t mind if I do.” As Ace started to scarf down on a couple of simple, yet perfectly-crafted egg salad sandwiches, Marco checked his watch again. 8:06. Maybe he had passed their table? He sighed and then his eyes wandered over to Ace. It was dim, but he was finally able to get a better look at him. He was wearing a sleek black and orange leather jacket. Marco had never seen him wear it before.

“You look good, yoi,” he said, continuing to stare, only to realize the actual words that left his mouth. “Er-- not that you don’t always look good. And I don’t mean that to be weird or anything.”

Ace laughed, but it was one of his quieter laughs (so more of a giggle, really). “It’s okay, Marco.  Mean, I’m glad. Sabo was telling me that I should get dressed up, but I wasn’t really sure about it.”

Dressed up? Was he going to go on a date? If this situation was complicated before, Marco didn’t even know what to call it now.

But still he smiled back. “In that case, I think you look amazing.”

They fell back into a silence, the chatter of the night continuing around them. Ace pulled out his phone and started fiddling with it. Marco checked his watch and then his phone as if that would change the time. He knew Fire Fist said that he would wait for an hour, but every minute was a minute wasted.

“I was actually a little nervous.” Ace started speaking again, interrupting Marco’s thoughts. “I can’t wait to meet him.” There was a fondness in his voice that was hard to fake— unless Ace was secretly an actor as well (though Marco didn’t see why he would lie about something like that at this moment). It hurt with a nausea in the pit of his stomach, but whoever he was, he clearly made Ace happy. It wasn’t Marco’s place to hold him back.

“Is this a first time thing then?”

“Mm hm.” Ace nodded, but then his cheeks went red. “This is a little embarrassing, but… I don’t actually know what they look like.”

“Oh, Ace.” Though he said that, Marco was in a similar boat (though he didn’t want to admit that). “You should be more careful.”

“It’s fine!” Ace insisted. “I trust him. I really do.”

“Are you going to be able to find each other though?”

Ace pointed to a pocket in his jacket. There was something sticking out of the top: a rose that seemed a bit worn down, missing a couple of petals. “Made sure to have some sort of sign. Though I don’t really know if anyone can really see it in this light.”

“Let’s hope it works then.”

Continuously checking the time made Marco feel rude, but watching each minute pass made Marco feel more and more anxious. How did Fire Fist feel right now? Alone? Abandoned? Would he make things worse by rejecting the confession? But no matter what, he couldn’t just leave him hanging. He needed to recheck the letter for real this time.

He glanced over at Ace, who was once again preoccupied with his phone. Finally, he pulled the letter out, slipping it out of the envelope. The petals fell onto the edge of the table, but he was busy thoroughly rereading the letter this time. “Hm? Oh,” he said quietly. There was a line of postscript scribbled on the back that he missed, too focused on the body of the letter.

“Oh, what?” Marco didn’t hear Ace. “Marco. What… what’s that?”

**P.S. Sorry. I just remembered that you’ll have no way to find me. I’ll be wearing a black and orange jacket with a rose in my pocket. I really hope that you can make it.**

The jacket and… “A rose?” His brain was still processing that when the letter was yanked out of his hands. Ace’s eyes moved over it.

“I don’t understand…” Marco hadn’t heard Ace sound like that before, so confused and quiet. His own eyes wandered back to Ace’s jacket pocket: a rose— a rose in the pocket of a black and orange jacket. “How-- Why do you have this?” His hands were shaking even as he clutched the letter tight.

Marco’s confusion cleared in an instant. There was no more doubt. In the next moment, he felt possessed: he reached over, holding Ace’s wrist in his hand gently. “It’s you isn’t it? Ace… Fire Fist… My Fire…”

Ace stared at him. He was silent.

But in the next moment, he escaped Marco’s grasp and sprinted away through the crowd, dropping the letter behind him. “Wait! Ace, come back!”

He tried to stand to follow him, but there was a shout of “Marco Newgate!” and the crowd closed in too much to make it through.

Ace was gone.

* * *

Marco hardly slept that night. He was busy thinking through everything, half anxious, half absolutely elated.

Ace and Fire Fist were one in the same. Originally, he thought he didn’t return Fire Fist’s feelings, but the truth only made his feelings for him stronger now. Fire Fist, his most trusted confidant, was also the person that he liked? It made sense though. They had both run into job trouble at the exact same time, they both knew martial arts, the flowers!

This was better than good news.

Next morning’s Marco still hadn’t completely decided how to feel, though excitement and anxiety went hand-in-hand. Ace hadn’t texted him, but they would be able to talk at the studio. Hopefully, they could sort things out before traveling for location shoots next week. Marco didn’t exactly know if Ace was coming along, but it would be a nice chance to spend some time together if they had some free time.

“You look happy today,” Izo commented as he passed by Marco, who was sitting in his chair, waiting for shooting to start. “How’d last night go?”

His brothers’ smugness last night also finally clicked in his mind. “You guys knew, didn’t you?”

“It was hard not to figure it out with Ace toting that letter everywhere, though I admit, it was Haruta who saw the letter at first,” Izo said, pressing a finger to his chin.

“Not surprised,” Marco said. Haruta could be pretty stealthy when he wanted to. “Anyways, have you seen Ace around?”

“Ugh. Are you two going to be that gross PDA couple now? I mean, I support you guys, but please keep it in private.”

“What? No. We just didn’t have a chance to talk last night.” He decided not to mention how Ace fled. “Just tell me if you’ve seen him.”

Shanks chose that moment to pass by, intruding on this very personal conversation. “You’re looking for Ace?”

Marco nodded. “Yeah that’s right.”

“Sorry, Marco,” Shanks said, and Marco suddenly felt sick at those words. “Ace won’t be in for a while. Some personal issues came up. I shouldn’t really specify.” He patted Marco on the back and walked away, but Marco was still frozen in place.

Izo put a hand on his shoulder. “Oh god, Marco. I’m so sorry.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT 10/06/2019: My wonderful event partner did another art piece inspired by this chapter for Rouge week (like three months ago whoops) and I'm finally getting around to adding it in!

The past week had been a whirlwind of panic for Ace. He still wasn’t sure if he processed everything correctly.

Everyone who knew that he had been planning to confess had been so supportive of him too.

* * *

**Ace had been keeping the letter with him through the week, reading and rereading it as he pondered over sending it. It wasn’t quite finished yet. He was still trying to think of the right words to say.**

**“Oh? Is that a letter, Ace?” Haruta asked, peering over Ace’s shoulder.**

**Ace could have sworn he heard his heart stop. He hadn’t had enough time to hide the letter!**

**“Haruta! How long have you been standing there?”**

**“Long enough. Move over.” Once he did, Haruta effortlessly leaped over the arm of the chair and into the space Ace had occupied previously. “So, is that for Marco?”**

**Ace couldn’t deny that he had been thinking about Marco too through this process. His feelings had been so sincere, so honest, but this was about Ace now (even if he still felt guilty). “It’s actually for someone else.”**

**“Aw really?”**

**Ace frowned at Haruta’s slightly disappointed tone, but he tried not to think much of it. “Yeah.” Before he knew it, more words came to him. He just needed to talk it out with someone. He had thought about talking to Sabo, but he knew too much about his relationship with Phoenix. Haruta would be a nice outside party. “It’s actually for my friend-- uh, a penpal.”**

**Haruta perked up in interest. “You also— I mean, you have a penpal? Well no wonder you got so into it with Marco.”**

**“I guess so.” Ace paused. Should he really do this? “He’s… he’s really important to me.” Those seemed like the appropriate words. He couldn’t bring himself to actually say it out loud to Haruta, but he suddenly felt himself rambling on. “I can’t imagine being without him.”**

**“You guys must really care about each other.”**

**“Who cares about what now?” Izo had walked by and decided to insert himself into the conversation.**

**“Ace has a crush,” Haruta blurted out.**

**“Haruta!”**

**Izo smirked, but then hid his mouth behind his hand. “This wouldn’t happen to be about—”**

**“Nope.”**

**“Oh, no? Who then?” Izo asked.**

**Haruta pointed at the letter in Ace’s hands before Ace could hide it again. “Apparently, someone’s had a penpal this whole time.”**

**“Hm. What a coincidence.”**

**“Can you two let me into the loop?” Ace complained, but still, neither of them answered him. “Fine. Be that way. I was just trying to ask for some advice.”**

**“It’s a good thing I came along then,” Izo said. He pushed his way between the two of them and took a seat. “Haruta would hardly be able to give you good romantic advice.” He held his hand out. “May I see that?”**

**Ace stared at his outstretched hand, wondering how things got to this point, but deciding that it was too late to turn back. He handed him the letter. Haruta leaned over to read as well, but Ace avoided looking at them, only barely catching the way their eyes widened.**

**“What’s going on over here?”**

**Haruta and Izo looked up from the letter at Thatch who had come along. “Ace has a** **_penpal!”_ **

**In hindsight, maybe he should have noticed the strange emphasis that Haruta had placed on the word ‘penpal’.**

**“Wait hang on.” Ace tried to protest, but Thatch was already invested when Haruta passed him the letter.**

**“Oh? Oh!” he gasped. “This is—”**

**“Shhh! Thatch!”**

**“Yeah it’s a confession! I know!” Ace cried out, trying to pull things back together. He noticed Jozu staring at him and he quieted down. “Can we just wrap this up? What do you guys think? Should I send it?”**

**They all looked at each other, occasionally nodding like they had some telepathic powers.**

**“Hello?”**

**“After some deliberation—”**

**“You didn’t even say anything, Izo.”**

**“—we agree that you should send it.”**

**“Not without some adjustments to the letter of course,” Haruta added.**

**“What do you mean?”**

**There was a pause, then Thatch ruffled his hair and spoke up. “Our dear, Ace. Why not go the whole mile and meet up with your dear Phoenix?”**

* * *

Ace was still kicking himself. He should have known something was up— that they knew, especially when Izo offered to make him that jacket (which was still cool despite the circumstances).

Maybe he should have asked for Sabo’s advice instead after all (though Sabo had laughed about it after Ace had gotten home).

Marco and Phoenix… They were the same? Part of his brain refused to believe it, but the other half, well, it knew there was some sense to it. Marco and Phoenix both liked acting and photography. Marco and Phoenix both called their dads Pops and had a ton of siblings. Marco and Phoenix both loved a good cup of tea. The fucking tea Marco gave him that one time was tea Ace had sent him! He knew it tasted like Rouge’s tea the whole time!

And of course the most obvious thing: the handwriting.

**“Shouldn’t you have recognized Phoenix’s handwriting when he first wrote you as Marco?” Sabo asked when Ace came home and shared that bombshell with him.**

**Ace’s eyes widened as he rushed over to his desk to grab his letter box. He pulled out his most recent letter from Phoenix and another from Marco and held them side-by-side.**

**“Agh! I’m an idiot!” The loops in how Marco and Phoenix wrote lowercase “Gs” was identitcal!**

Now, he didn’t know how to proceed. Everything felt too confusing. He needed space to sort things out. Sure, it may have seemed a bit too coincidental that he found a reason to leave the city, but it was a valid excuse. Besides, work was a good distraction.

“I’m healed already, Ace. You don’t have to keep worrying,” Rouge said. She heaved the bag of soil up with ease, finishing the display stack in the corner of the shop.

Ace had tried to help with it, but Rouge forbid him from even lifting a finger (and when Portgas D.Rouge says no, you listen). “I looked it up, Ma. Your ankle is still healing. What if something happens after I leave?”

She raised an eyebrow at him and she didn’t even have to speak for Ace to know her thoughts. “Did you not just see that?”

He yelped when Rouge grabbed his ear. “No! I got it, ma!” She had as much energy as ever **—** maybe even moreso.

“See? I’m fine, sweetie.” That didn’t help to deter his worry at all, but he didn’t mention that as he followed her to retrieve a stack of flower pots. “Your grandfather was just being dramatic.”

Ace rolled his eyes. “As always.”

* * *

 The call had practically scared the shit out of him.

**He had just checked his phone after finally getting home from the park, only to discover several missed calls from Garp. He was never too pleased to answer a call from the shitty old man, but he would probably just keep calling anyways.**

**“Your mother’s been injured!”**

**“What?” The words had definitely scared him out of his slump. “Put her on! What happened!”**

**Garp didn’t bother answering, instead continuing to ramble. “I need you back here to help her while I’m away.”**

**As much as Ace hated doing what Garp asked, he knew exactly what to say to get him to come home. With Garp going off to god knows where and Luffy taking a summer trip with some friends, Ace knew he couldn’t just leave Rouge alone. A few hours later, he was on the next train home.**

**Only to arrive and find out that his mother sprained her ankle weeks before Garp called.**

**“I didn’t want you to worry,” Rouge had said. She was still healing up, but she greeted him at the door with a big hug anyways. “But I’m so glad to see you home.”**

* * *

They passed the empty flower pots, instead wandering into the greenhouse garden out back. Rouge sat upon the bench, something they had all painted together when the shop had first opened. Ace, Sabo, and Luffy had each pressed a child-sized handprint in paint onto the bench. _“It’s the little bit of home I have right here in the store,”_ Rouge had said before pulling the three of them into a hug.

Rouge pat the space next to her. Ace joined her on the bench. “There’s something you’re not telling me, isn’t there?” It wasn’t exactly a question. She knew him too well for it to be a question.

“Just some guy, I guess.” He shrugged and tried to brush it off. “I confessed…. Sort of.”

“Oh? Doesn’t sound like ‘just some guy’ to me then.” She smiled and pressed her hands together. “You should have invited him over and introduced him!”

“It’s not exactly a quick trip from Grandine, Ma,” Ace muttered. He looked away. He wasn’t exactly eager to see her reaction to his next few words.

But it was hard to even just admit that without thinking of the moment over and over. The words kept echoing over in his ears. _“It’s you isn’t it? Ace… Fire Fist… My Fire…”_

His cheeks lit up red. Marco— _Phoenix—_ had truly said that of him: _My Fire._

Rouge giggled. “Looking a little flushed there, firefly.”

“Well it’s uh— I sorta… ran away from him when I found out who he was?”

Silence overtook the conversation. It wasn’t exactly a moment that he was very proud of, but the silence had made it worse. Silence meant that he was stuck with his own thoughts, thinking on every single instant of that moment: the waiting, pulling out the letter, Marco’s— _Phoenix’s—_  words and the warmth of his hand on his wrist.

Pulling away from a heartbroken voice. _“Wait! Ace, come back!”_

A warm hand pressed against his cheek. “Ace, look at me.”

Rouge’s gentle touch and kind smile never failed to calm the churning stomach that came with his nervousness. “Can you explain a bit more for me please? So I can understand and help?”

Ace nodded, but fell quiet for a second as he thought of how to explain his situation.

“He’s uh— a coworker I guess? Boss? No, that’s not right.”

“What?” Her words were close to a shriek, which clearly meant that his word choice had been very wrong. “They didn’t force you into anything, did they?”

“No, no! Sorry. I didn’t know how to word it,” Ace said, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. “I’m kind of his assistant, but not really? I was supposed to be, but it was complicated, so Shanks just let me do some manual labor around the studio instead. But we ended up becoming close anyways. He...” he trailed off, voice dipping into quiet before speaking up again. “He wrote me letters.”

“Oh, you’re smiling,” Rouge practically cooed.

“Haha yeah sure.” Of course he was smiling. It was Phoenix he was talking about. “Anyways, turns out that it was Phoenix all along!”

“What?” Rouge gasped. She pressed her hands together in front of her mouth. “Oh dear. Ace, are you okay?”

“I…” he trailed off, unsure of what to say. “What am I supposed to do, mom?”

She was quiet, but pulled him into a hug, rubbing gentle circles on his back. It was a reassuring move that always let him know that she was there for him. Part of him felt pathetic (he had come running back into his mother’s arms, of course he felt pathetic), but he just felt lost right now.

“Ace?”

Ace nodded as best as he could.

“Listen to me, firefly,” she said. “You are not the kind of person who runs. I know you’re not. It’s hard for me to say it, but I’m frankly disappointed in you.”

Ace flinched. Rouge was right, but her honesty could be pretty brutal sometimes. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not the one you need to apologize to, Ace.” She pulled away to make eye contact, and sure enough, she was frowning. “No matter what your feelings, you hurt someone by leaving them like that. Ace, you need to decide. How do you really feel about um…”

“Marco.” He filled in the blank for her. Not Phoenix— Marco. “I…”

He wanted to say that he needed more time to think, but it was hard not to admit that he was avoiding it. “Marco is— well, he’s everything. He’s honest, Ma. He told me about his feelings, but he gave me space. He cared more about me than having a relationship with me.” He could feel his cheeks heating up red as he continued to speak. “I need someone like that,” he admitted.   

Rouge squeezed his hand. “That’s great, Ace. I’m proud of you for saying that.”

Ace continued to rattle on. “He’s really cool too? I’ve seen him, Ma. He does his own stunts like fighting and that stuff! Oh, um, usually people have a stunt double when **—** ”

Rouge interrupted him. “Oh I know, Ace.”

“Oh.”

“Your father used to work in the film industry, you know.”

“What?!” Ace’s jaw dropped as he tried to process that information. “Ma, you can’t just drop that information!”

“Hm?” She tilted her head in thought. “Well, none of you never really asked about it. Anyways, continue.”

“Ma…”

From the greenhouse, both of them heard the quiet ring of windchimes coming from the front of the shop.

“Hm? I thought we were closed right now.” Ace clearly remembered that he flipped the sign on the door to closed before they went into the back.

“Well, not quite,” Rouge said. “I was expecting some guests actually.”

“Guests?” Rouge hadn’t told him.

“Hello? Are you here, Miss Rouge?” Ace froze. He knew that voice, especially after weeks of hearing him yell. He looked at Rouge. She was hiding her mouth behind her hand, but Ace knew that she was smiling. It was in the way she moved her eyebrows.

Ace had already been on edge when he heard that familiar voice, but the instant he stepped into the front of store, it felt like someone was stirring up his stomach.

“Shanks?! Marco?!”

He hadn’t been prepared to face Marco yet (not after running away) yet fate had delivered him right into the Garden Queen flower shop.

Marco stared back, mouth agape. Apparently, he knew nothing of this either. Ace looked to Shanks, and seeing the way he smirked made Ace want to punch him (or at the very least, shake him by the collar of that stupid jacket he always wore).

“How’ve you been, Ace? Miss Rouge?” Shanks asked, arms wide for a hug.

Ace scowled. “Don’t pull that shit with me. What are you doing here?” They should have been back in Grandine, busy with filming. “How.... how did you find the time to come here?”

Marco still seemed speechless himself. “I uh… we **—** ”

“We’re doing some filming on location,” Shanks answered. “Did you not see it on the schedule?”

Ace fell quiet. He, in fact, hadn’t looked that far on the schedule. He’d really just been taking things week by week. He should have known to plan better.

Shanks patted Marco on the back. “Aren’t you gonna say hi, Marco?”

His face was still red, and he couldn’t quite get the words out. “Um, Ace? I uh… I mean, hi. Shit.” It was actually kind of cute, Ace would admit. Marco wasn’t usually shy, but Ace didn’t blame him from being flustered considering the situation.

“So you’re Marco!” Rouge exclaimed. She clasped her hands together in excitement. “Ace was just telling me about you.”

“Ma!” Apparently, it was Ace’s turn to be tomato red. “Don’t tell him that!”

She giggled anyways.

“Did you know about this?” he asked.

“Well…” Rouge trailed off. “Shanks said he was going to bring someone by, but he never actually specified.”

Ace turned to glare at Shanks instead, who was also laughing. “Well, my dear nephew—”

“Not right now please.”

“Marco seemed so down about you, so I just had to bring him here!” Shanks shrugged with a grin on his face. “I knew it was only a short drive away from Goa, and we’re doing some filming around here anyways.”

Ace looked at Marco, waiting for his response, but he felt the emotions rush in when they made eye contact.

He knew that many people thought of Marco as handsome, and sure, he would agree to that, but it wasn’t something he had really thought much on before. But now, he couldn’t help himself: he finally had a face to Phoenix. It was Marco, he loved him, and he was right here in front of him.

“Here, Ace. Why don’t you go into the back with Marco so you two can have some privacy? I need to talk to Shanks about an order.”

Part of Ace wanted to say no and ask Rouge for a way out of this instead. He still hasn’t had time to process what was happening here. But he knew that she of all people wasn’t going to help him out. He also knew that Rouge loved him, but she knew what was best for him and she was going to make him face this no matter what.

“Yeah, sure I guess,” Ace said. “Um, Marco? Is that fine with you?”

Marco nodded quietly, following Ace through the door and back into the greenhouse, yet neither of them knew what to say. It felt like the silence would never stop.

“Is this real?” Marco finally asked. His voice was quiet, shaky, and more vulnerable than Ace had ever heard him before. “You didn’t leave for good?”

“I’m here. I’m real, Marco.” Ace felt nauseous as pulled Marco down to sit on the bench with him. He didn’t even think about how Marco would feel and he had just decided to run away. He moved his hands over Marco’s slowly, cautious of his reaction. Marco didn’t move away. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I thought that I had ruined everything, Ace,” Marco said. He reached up towards Ace’s cheek, but pulled away. Instead, Ace took his hand and guided it. It felt warm.

“It’s okay, Marco.” Ace wondered if Marco could see his blush. “I want this. I **—** uh, as long as you’re okay with it.”

“Ace, don’t force yourself.”

“I’m not!” he insisted. His heart began to beat fast. He knew what he had to say next. “I probably should have said this sooner, Marco, but I love you.”

Marco’s eyes widened and he went rigid, but he didn’t say anything.

Ace felt his heart sink. Was he too late? Did Marco decide that he didn't feel the same way after all? “Please say something. Did I break you?” Ace asked because joking was the only way he thought to cut the tension.

Marco stared at him and for a second, Ace thought it was all over.

But then he just chuckled instead.

Ace blushed, sputtering, “Wh—what?”

Marco stopped, expression resting in a tired smile. “Ace,” he said, pausing. “I was so happy last Sunday that I can’t even describe it. I… I didn’t really have feelings for you as Fire Fist, I admit.”

Ace chewed on his lip.

“As important as you are to me as Fire Fist, it was hard to be attached in that way, but as Ace, you’re right here in front of me. You’re everything I like about Fire Fist and more.” He reached up and tucked a strand of Ace’s hair behind his ear. Ace shivered. He hadn’t realized how gentle his touch was.

“Phoenix—er, you— is, no was— no are? God, I don’t know.”

“Take your time, Ace.”

Ace took a deep breath, and reassured by Marco’s gaze, he continued. “Phoenix reminded me so much of you, but I didn’t realize… I’m sorry.”

“We couldn’t have known.”

“The handwriting, Marco,” Ace interjected.

Marco blushed and then coughed awkwardly. “Uh, right. Pretty embarrassing, yoi. Anyways, you really don’t need to keep apologizing.” He shifted his position on the bench, and his knee brushed against Ace’s. “I guess we should have been more honest with each other from the start, yoi.”

“Probably.” Ace rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Maybe I shouldn’t have started with the whole pen name thing.”

“Well, things ended up working out in the end,” Marco said, moving his hands to hold Ace’s again. “Besides, if you didn’t use your pen name, I wouldn’t be able to call you My Fire, now would I?”

Marco finally let out a genuine laugh when Ace squeaked. He looked around at the different plants around the greenhouse. “It’s a nice place you guys have here. I’m glad I finally get to see it.”

“Would you like a tour?” Ace asked. Marco nodded. They stood up, Ace pulling on Marco’s hands. He guided Marco through the greenhouse, hand-in-hand. “I wish I could have sent you a picture, but that’s more your thing.”

“That’s alright,” Marco said. “It’s better waiting to see it.” Ace had to agree. Rouge had sent him some pictures recently since she had been thinking of getting a website set up for the place, but nothing compared to seeing the colorful array of blossoms in person. “Is this where your mother grows her tea too?”

Ace shook his head. “That’s actually at home. Ma only shares with close friends.”

“Well, I should feel very lucky then.” Marco pulled Ace closer. Ace thought his chest was going to burst from his heartbeat.

Rouge opened the door, gaze wandering towards their intertwined hands. “I’m so happy for you, Ace!” she gushed.

“Ma!”

“Oh, by the way, Marco, Shanks already left.”

“What?” Marco cursed quietly. “He was my ride back to the hotel in Goa.”

“That’s no problem. He left your suitcase with me.”

Ace’s brain had only started to process where Rouge was going with her words, but by the time he opened his mouth to protest, he was too late.

“Would you like to stay the night at our house?”

* * *

Needless to say, riding back up the mountain sandwiched between your mother and your crush (boyfriend? Ace still wasn’t sure) in the front seat of his family’s pickup truck was more than an awkward experience. The whole time, he was praying for the ride to end soon. None of them talked, but Rouge’s metal music (which was thankfully turned down) didn’t make things any less awkward.

They passed a couple of familiar signs and Ace sighed in relief. “We’re almost there.”

Their patchwork two-story house had been one of the last things that Roger had left them before he died (with the help of Uncle Rayleigh of course, who occasionally visited to help maintain the place). There was the inheritance money as well, but that wasn’t something that Ace wanted to rely on. Rouge’s share had gone into the flower shop. **Build a castle for your flowers, my Queen,** he had supposedly written, though Ace had never actually seen the will himself.

“Welcome to our home,” Rouge said. “I’ll grab your suitcase for you, so feel free to take your time if you want to show him around the outside, Ace.”

“Alright, Ma.”

“It’s quaint,” Marco commented, eyes sweeping over the exterior of the home. He grinned, pointing up at the corner of the second floor above the porch roof. Next to the window, three letters were painted on the outside wall: **ASL.** “Is that your room?”

“What gave it away?” Ace answered sarcastically. The letters were something he, Sabo, and Luffy had added when they were younger, but there was no possible way he would know that a future crush **—** boyfriend **—** would ever see it. “C’mon. Let’s get you set up. You can see everything later.”

The first room one would see when entering the house was the living room. It was a simple space with only a couch, a few armchairs, and a small television set (which Ace didn’t use much anyways), but it was functional for them. To the left was the dining room. They had a large table  (though they didn’t have many guests very often) with a chandelier that looked like an open flower (yet another gift from Roger). From across the way, they could see into the kitchen, where Rouge was preparing for dinner.

“So, you can take the guest bedroom,” Ace picked up Marco’s suitcase, which Rouge had set down next to the stairs. “I need a second to move my stuff.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, I was actually staying in there,” Ace said. “Ma was using our old room to store some stuff.”

“Sorry about that, firefly!”

“It’s fine, Ma!” he called back.

Marco frowned in concern. “Where will you sleep then?”

Ace shrugged. “I’ll just sleep on the couch down here. No big deal.”

Marco looked at the couch, and then he shook his head. “There’s no way that’s comfortable. I can’t let you do that.”

“I’ll be fine, Marco! Besides, you have filming tomorrow!”

In the middle of this exchange, Rouge had walked over, still wearing her apron. She put a hand on each of their shoulders. “Why don’t you just share? The bed has enough room.”

Ace and Marco stared at each other. Ace was willing to bet that his face was equally as red as Marco’s.

“I’ll take that as a yes! So Marco, How do you feel about chicken parm?”

* * *

He really should have known that even his own mother would be out to interfere with his love life, though he had missed her scheming expression (how she would closed her eyes and would not stop smiling) earlier.

Ace stared at the ceiling of the guest bedroom. Marco was currently in the bathroom, preparing to go to sleep. They had avoided talking about it through dinner since Rouge had been busy asking questions and telling stories (much to Ace’s embarrassment). Even when Ace was showing Marco Rouge’s tea garden and the fresh vegetables out the back, they avoided the subject.

He considered his options. He could sneak out and go back down to the couch, but he could already imagine what Rouge would say to him. He could also always just take a blanket and sleep on the floor, but Marco was a gentleman, and there was no way he would let Ace do that.

“Ace? The bathroom is yours.”

Ace looked up. His brain short-circuited immediately: Marco was shirtless. He was absolutely well built and Ace couldn’t tear his gaze away. He had been in Marco’s trailer a few times while he was changing, but he never really had a chance to look. Accepting his attraction to Marco hadn’t helped him in this situation either.

“Is something wrong?”

“Shirt.” Ace felt like a caveman.

“Hm?” There was a short moment of silence between them before it clicked. “Oh god! I am so sorry, Ace. I usually sleep like this. I’ll just grab a shirt real quick.”

He reached for his suitcase, which was still resting on the bed, but Ace moved his hand in front of it. Ace cursed himself mentally for acting without thinking. “You don’t have to!”

Marco raised an eyebrow at him. “Really?”

“Haha yeah. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable or anything.”

“If you insist.”

In the bathroom, Ace was faced with an interesting dilemma. He was also (fortunately or unfortunately) used to sleeping without a shirt. Should he just go with it or should he wear a tank top so Marco wouldn’t feel uncomfortable?

When he reentered the bedroom, he was glad that Marco was busy looking at his phone, but that relief didn’t last long when Marco glanced up, eyes widening.

“Erm, sorry. I just thought **—** ” Ace stopped, cutting himself off. He pointed to the door. “Nevermind. I’m just gonna go change.”

But instead Marco said, “No. It’s your home, Ace. Don’t make yourself uncomfortable because of me.”

To avoid any more discomfort, Ace had kept himself as far left on the bed as possible, facing away from Marco. He wondered what Marco was doing of course, but it would be too embarrassing to look.

He tried closing his eyes to go to sleep, but he just couldn’t. It was hard to sleep when his thoughts were still confused and unsatisfied.

“What exactly are we?” he found himself asking, not even sure if Marco was awake.

Yet seconds later, he felt a hand rubbing his shoulder. “Look at me, Ace,” Marco coaxed. Ace flopped over awkwardly to face him and Marco took his hand, reminding Ace so much of back the flower shop. “I was hoping that we were together **—** if that’s what you want, of course. Though sharing a bed is a bit of a quick step.”

“Ugh, yeah,” Ace agreed. “Sorry about Ma.”

“It’s fine, Ace. I can tell she’s a very good mother to you, and it’s nice to feel so welcomed here.” Marco continued. “But I don’t want to rush and ruin things. I’ll go with whatever makes you comfortable.”

What he wanted then? What exactly was that? He thought he would need more time to think, but instead, he said what felt right. “I want to be close to you.”

Marco smiled and Ace’s heart soared. Yeah. Definitely right. They moved closer so that they were centered on the bed (thankfully no longer in danger of falling off).

“May I kiss you, Ace?” he asked in a whisper, something intimate, just for Ace’s ears. Marco’s kiss was just as gentle as his whisper and he tasted like the mint of his toothpaste.

Marco wrapped his arms around him. Ace had never felt so safe.That night, he slept the best he had in an entire week.

* * *

“Ace, I have to get up.” Marco chuckled when they awoke. He pressed a gentle kiss against Ace’s forehead.

Ace was already awake as well, used to his work sleep schedule anyways. “I know, I know,” he said, even though he wanted to protest. Filming had to be on a tight schedule, and Shanks was already doing them a huge favor by bringing Marco to him. He finally let Marco go so he could get up to change. “Will you even be able to make it back in time?”

“We’re actually doing some filming here in Fuusha,” Marco explained as he dug through his suitcase. “It’s just more convenient for everyone to stay in Goa. There are bigger hotels.”

“Ah, really?” He really should have looked at that schedule more in the first place. “Shanks never told me.”

“He told me on the drive here. Something about promoting tourism?”

“I guess that makes sense.” Ace had lived here for most of his life, but it was dear to him. It was really a beautiful place: coastal mountains caressing a charming town with a beautiful beach. In this region, more people were aware of Goa, where many people commuted for work or school (but Ace didn’t like Goa at all).

He really did wish that he had more time to show Marco Fuusha in person. Maybe another time. They were able to see some of the town during the drive to the beach. Rouge had driven them back down the mountain. “I can’t drive you straight there. We need to pick up an order,” she had said on the way. “Shanks mentioned that he wanted to feature some of my flowers in one of the scenes! Isn’t that nice?” There was a bit of pride that swelled in Ace knowing that his family’s flower shop was going to be in the credits of a big movie.

He didn’t mind helping her load several big arrangements into the truck bed. It was all tied together in a main bouquet, which Marco held out to him with an exaggerated bow. “For you.”

Ace carried it the whole car ride.

When they arrived at the beach, there was already crew running set up. It was a strange sight to see the beach set up with so much equipment, and it had obviously been closed to the public as well.

“Is that Ace?” Haruta ran up to them and suddenly pulled at Ace’s cheeks. “Oh my god. It’s real Ace!”

“Excuse me!” Rouge called. “Please be careful with the flowers.”

Haruta let go of Ace. “Sorry, M’am. I didn’t notice.”

“What about me?” Ace grumbled, though he knew his mother was just having some fun.

“Did Marco give those to you?” Izo chimed, sauntering up. “You two must have had a productive night last night then.”

“Izo,” Marco groaned.

“Don’t you, ‘Izo’ me. Now come along. Let’s get you changed.”

Izo was about to whisk him away to the temporary trailer they had set up for wardrobe when Marco paused, looking towards Ace.

“May I?” he asked. He reached up and put a hand on Ace’s shoulder.

Ace nodded and leaned into the touch as Marco kissed his cheek. “See you later, Ace. Love you.”

For brief second, Ace saw Izo smile at the exchange before he covered his mouth and pulled Marco away. Still somewhat dazed, Ace watched them leave. “Yeah, love you too…”

“You two are gross,” Haruta commented, shoving Ace’s sides.

“Hey!” Ace protested. “You guys were the ones encouraging it!”

“True, and trust me, Thatch would have baked a cake for you guys if he were here.”

Ace snorted. “What? Did he just die on us or something?”

“Nah. He’s just busy running his side of things back at home.”

Home. He had been reluctant to work at Four Emperor Studios at first, but now, maybe things weren’t so bad. “Hey, Haruta. I’ve really just been doing production assistant work, right?”

“Yeah? So what?”

“Is there any way I’d be able to work on something more permanent?”


	14. END

Marco was on cloud nine during filming for the rest of the day (though of course, he didn’t let his euphoria towards his relationship with Ace get in the way of his acting). By the end of the day, he was sure that the entire cast and crew (of those that were there for filming) knew about the two of them.

Not that they were being too discreet about it anyways. Marco took every available opportunity to spend time with Ace between different takes. There was so much lost time to catch up on and he was going to savor every precious second that they had. Ace found it somewhat embarrassing **—**  in the cutest way **—**  whenever Marco pulled him into his lap or whispered compliments into his ears.

All this made the end of the day much harder.

Ace had to stay behind in Fuusha. He wasn’t quite prepared for the trip anyways, and he needed to help out at least until his grandfather returned (Marco was glad that he didn’t have to deal with the headache of meeting Garp now). Marco on the other hand, was on a tight schedule for filming. Free time had been delegated to the first day of travel, and now, there was no time to waste **—**  not that Marco didn’t try when he lingered in the doorway of Ace’s home while picking up his luggage.

“I’m going to miss you,” he whispered longingly as he pulled Ace close, stroking a hand through his hair.

“It’s only gonna be like a week, right?” Ace asked. He reached up and squeezed Marco’s hand reassuringly. “If we can wait years, a week is nothing.”

He was right, and so Marco finally pried himself away from his arms, ready to face the week ahead.

“Hey, Marco?” Ace called to him before Marco could even step in the car (Haruta at the wheel this time). “Did you ever think that some letters would ever cause all of this?”

Marco placed a hand on his chin thoughtfully, but an answer came to his mind **—** no, his heart quickly. “Never,” he answered. “But I can’t ask for anything more when they led me to the start of the rest of my life.” He left Ace, stuttering and blushing on the steps, with that line.

Even though they could still text and call each other, the week still felt like one of the longest in Marco’s life.

The night when he arrived back at his apartment was one that was once again near sleepless. Tomorrow, he would finally get to see Ace again.

(Though he did end up dreaming about having Ace next to him in bed once again).

Despite the lack of sleep, Marco felt energized. He texted Ace  **(Can’t wait to see you later, Ace. Are you up for having breakfast together?)** , even though he wasn’t sure if he was awake yet.

His heart was pounding even though he was just waiting in his trailer. He almost jumped out of his seat when someone knocked on the door, but his excitement fell when he actually saw who was behind it. “Oh. It’s just you.”

Thatch pouted (which wasn’t a pretty look on him in Marco’s opinion). “Thanks. Is that any way to greet your brother? Didn’t you miss me?”

“Not particularly,” Marco answered bluntly. “I was waiting for Ace.”

“Oh right! Izo told me!” Thatch wiggled his eyebrows at him. “Well, you two better be quick if you’re gonna **—** ”

“What are you trying to imply?” he asked, though he knew exactly what Thatch meant. He just didn’t particularly want to deal with it right now. “We just haven’t gotten to spend too much time with each other after officially being together. That’s all. Get your head out of the gutter.”

“I think I’m doing just fine.”

“Careful,” Izo chimed as he entered the conversation, standing at the bottom of the steps to Marco’s trailer. “You’ll ruin your hair.”

Marco sighed. Not that he didn’t love his brothers, but it was a letdown to see them when he was expecting Ace. He decided that he should just ask instead. “Have either of you seen Ace? He hasn’t answered my texts yet and he was supposed to be back today.”

“And pray tell, why is it our job to know where he is?” Izo asked. He was barely paying attention to Marco, examining his nails.

“Because he’s usually helping you?”

“Not anymore,” Thatch said.

Marco frowned at those words. “What do you mean by that?”

He shrugged. “Go ask Haruta.”

He really should have just gone out to look for Ace in the first place. Maybe Ace wanted some space again, and while Marco would be happy to provide that for him, he couldn’t help worrying. He thankfully knew where Haruta was because of the filming schedule.

He didn’t know Ace would be there with him, wearing a headset around his neck and holding a clipboard. Ace looked so natural, so confident, and Marco found that beautiful.

“Ace?” he couldn’t help asking. He didn’t even care that he was interrupting their conversation. “What are you doing here?”

Haruta stopped talking and both of them turned their gazes towards Marco, Ace beaming. Haruta pat Ace on the shoulder. “I’ll give you two some space.”

Ace set down his clipboard. Marco stood still, not sure what to expect next, but fell naturally into it when Ace ran into his arms. Ace pressed his head against Marco chest, then looked up at him with a contagious grin. “I work here, Marco,” he finally answered.

Enthusiasm restored, Marco couldn’t help chuckling. He had always liked Ace’s sense of humor. “I know that, My Fire, but I meant this.” He tapped the headset hanging around his neck.

“You know how I didn’t really want to work at the studio in the first place, right?” Ace took his hand, occasionally shifting his grip.

“How could I forget?” Marco said dryly. That wasn’t exactly a high point of his relationship with Ace.

“I guess I’m changing my mind then,” Ace continued, still holding Marco’s hand tight. “You guys aren’t all that bad, and you’ve all made it fun to work here. That’s why I decided to stay and do something more permanent. Haruta told me that it would take a while for me to get going, but I thought it would be cool if I could work with stunts and fights and stuff like that.”

It took Marco a  short moment to process that long explanation, but in truth, he couldn’t be happier.

“So, what do you think?”

Marco couldn’t resist sweeping Ace into his arms, to which Ace let out an unmanly squeak. “Marco!”

He whispered something in Ace’s ear (something only meant for him) and smirked at Ace as he finally set him down, satisfied with how Ace’s cheeks seemed even redder than the string of beads around his neck.

“It makes me happier than you can believe, yoi.”

Ace snorted. “Not as happy as you make me.”

Marco was sure he was still grinning like an idiot, but he didn’t care. He held out his hand to Ace, and Ace slipped his own hand into it naturally. “So are we still up for breakfast?”

“Absolutely. And you better make me some tea too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I hope that you enjoyed reading this! I might end up writing some drabbles for this story in the future if that's something that anyone is interested in.
> 
> Make sure to check out the other stories being posted for this event as well!
> 
> Please make sure to leave a comment and let me know what you thought of the story! (Please I'm begging you)


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